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By Samuel Parsons, Jr. 



Landscape Gardening 
Art of Landscape Architecture 




The Treatment of the Natural Wood-lawn and the Brook, by the Owner, on 
the Estate of John Staples, Esq., Newburgh N. Y. 



Zhc Hrt of 
Xanbscape Htcbitectute 

Its Development and its Application to 
Modern Landscape Gardening 



By 

Samuel parsons 

Fellow of the American Society of Landscape Architects 
Author of " Landscape Gardening," etc. 



With 48 Illustrations 



G. P. Putnam's Sons 

New York and London 

Cbe fmicherbocftec press 

1915 



"P27 



Copyright, 1915 

BY 

SAMUEL PARSONS 



Ube ftnfcfierboclter press, Dew ffiorfi 



i5' 

MAR 2 1915 



'CI,A39194;J 



^0 

ANDREW H. GREEN 

the Father of Greater New York, this book is respectfully dedicated 
in recognition of the fact that he was Central Park's best friend from 
the time of its inception and because he was always and ever the loyal 
and powerful support of the author in his endeavours to protect the Park 
from ill-judged and injurious invasions. 



PREFACE 

THERE have been several authoritative books 
written entitled Observations or Hints on Mod- 
ern Gardening or else the Theory and Practice 
of Landscape Gardening. In later times, however, it 
has been felt that a title of wider scope was needed than 
"landscape gardening," which seems to limit the sub- 
ject in the minds of many to the treatment of a flower 
garden or an exhibition of brilliant colour in a parterre 
of bedding plants. 

An architect, taken from the Greek, means master 
builder. He is one who designs and frames any com- 
plex structure; one who arranges elementary material 
on a comprehensive plan. 

Plato made "the causes of things to be matter, ideas, 
and an efficient architect." Although the term archi- 
tect has come to mean almost exclusively master 
builders in wood, stone, iron, etc., the term landscape 
architect is equally appropriate. A landscape artist, 
who creates scenery from trees and flowers and earth 
and rock and water, arranges elementary materials on 
a comprehensive plan. He has his standards of work- 
manship like the architect, and these standards are 
subtle and difficult to establish and explain, because 



vi preface 

they are dependent for their value on the growth of 
living things. Such artistic work is also dependent 
for value on the general consensus of opinion delivered 
by well recognized authorities. The work is done in- 
stinctively; criticism and rules may be deduced from 
the work afterwards, but good artistic design and crafts- 
manship are instinctive. Kant, in discussing aesthetic 
judgment, said, "judgments of taste are not susceptible 
of proof, but they may be evoked when an opportunity 
for immediate perception occurs. Their general valid- 
ity is exemplary, i.e., it is gained by means of examples, 
not rules. " Investigating the production of the beauti- 
ful in art, the same writer says "that the production 
like the estimation is carried on without the guidance of 
abstract rules, and yet in such wise that that which is 
produced is the object of general recognition and may 
serve as a model, " and Schopenhauer even goes so far 
as to say that "the fine arts do not advance beyond 
intention and hence give fragments, and examples, but 
no rule or totality." 

Therefore, it will be conceded that the art of land- 
scape architecture is not subject to the application of 
hard and fast rules as a science would be. The study 
of nature assisted by the best examples is the proper 
field for the art of landscape architecture. Models 
are based on approval by persons of recognized fitness 
for rendering judgment. One can no more indicate the 
rules that govern the development of the work of the 
landscape architect than he can explain how a Titian 
was painted. The result is evident, and ideas and 



preface vii 

suggestions are evoked, helpful to the artist, not only 
because he recognizes excellences himself, but because 
he is stimulated by the approval of respectable author- 
ities and taught (if he has it in him) to do something 
of similar value transfused by the peculiar genius of his 
own mind and spirit. 

In order to work out landscape designs properly some 
knowledge of good practice is necessary. Hints and 
suggestions point the way and lighten the labour of 
traversing it. The hints and suggestions of this book 
refer to both theory and practice and give as much 
information as the space will allow. The student 
should seek to dwell on the various features of land- 
scape interest in gardens and parks or estates, a few of 
which are here considered and illustrated. Especially 
worthy of consideration are the features of small es- 
tates. They show less evidence of the academic in- 
fluences which naturally make the large places hardly 
available as practical examples for general use. 

It is rather remarkable that one of the oldest of the 
arts, landscape gardening, has had comparatively small 
attention given to the exposition of examples, and the 
ideas they evoke. In fact, among all the writers on 
this subject, scarcely half a dozen have attacked this 
particular phase of it; Whately, Repton, Prince Puck- 
ler, A. J. Downing, and Edouard Andre have shown in 
their writings that they have grasped the subject in a 
large and competent way. The difficulty of late years 
seems to have been that horticulture has developed so 
rapidly that in the desire to display novel and beautiful 



viii preface 

plants, the real essence of landscape gardening has been 
allowed to escape like a lost fragrance. If there are 
quantities of beautiful foliage and flowers available it 
has been thought only necessary to have what is called 
"good taste" to be able to arrange them on a lawn. 
The idea seems seldom to have been considered that 
models in the form of scenes on large and small estates 
should be studied in the light of the best literature 
on the subject before attempting to do landscape 
work. 

Further proof of the ignorance of the general public of 
the essence of landscape gardening is shown by the lack 
of interest in the writings of the greatest of landscape 
gardeners, Whately, Repton, and Prince Puckler. 
The latter has not even been translated into English; 
Whately has been read in no new edition for more than 
one hundred years, and Repton, after almost an equal 
length of time, has been published by Houghton & Mif- 
flin in an edition by John Nolen, a well-known land- 
scape architect in Boston, Massachusetts, who has 
written an illuminating introduction of Repton's work, 
including his sketches and hints and his theory and 
practice of landscape gardening. The writings of 
Olmsted & Vaux, the designers of Central Park, New 
York City, whose pronouncements on the subject of 
landscape gardening are of the highest value, have 
never been collected from their reports, letters, and 
addresses. William A. Stiles, editor of the Garden and 
Forest Magazine, 1 888-1 898, where he frequently dis- 
cusses with comprehension, and great literary skill, 



preface ix 

the fundamental principles of landscape gardening, is 
almost unknown to the public. 

It will be found that the contents of some of the 
chapters deal with landscape gardening in ways that 
will be liable to give a slight shock to those who have 
the ordinary conception of the art. For example, the 
treatment of grading, of planting, of roads and paths, 
rocks, islands, water, the poetry of parks, the proper 
function of gardens may seem to go somewhat far in 
taking what might be termed novel views of the sub- 
ject, in giving "a touch more than the maximum." It is 
for that reason, chiefly, that many quotations are used in 
order to prove that the ideas presented have the support 
of competent authorities both ancient and modem ; and 
the reference to models of standard excellence in many 
periods and countries has a similar purpose in view. 

My own contribution to the present work has been 
largely limited to the collection of these citations and 
references made in the text and footnotes, and such 
definition and explanation of ideas presented as will 
tend to simplify their proper understanding. I have 
endeavoiu-ed to show that landscape gardening has been 
and is the result of an evolution and growth of an impor- 
tant art, based on the deepest instincts of human nature. 

Above most other arts, landscape architecture is 
based on nature, and my own particular function in this 
book I conceive to be to point out how and why the art 
should be practised on natural lines, and something of 
the degree to which this course, in spite of much seeming 
divergence, is supported by well-recognized authorities. 



X preface 

It has been, moreover, my object to show that the 
evolution of growing things, the development of dis- 
tinct types of effect, although greatly varied, can be, and 
should be, made to bear the stamp alike of definite 
though perhaps instinctive ideas throughout the vari- 
ous kinds of landscape gardening, whether it be a park, 
an estate, a village garden, or a window box. It should 
make a fine picture no matter how small or how large. 

The growth or evolution of landscape gardening has 
been more than a mere series of individual experiences, 
for "experience is extended and enriched by, we have to 
remember, not merely and primarily knowledge. We 
begin by trying and end by knowing. Practice is the 
parent of theory and realization the surest verification. " 
Moreover, "evolution, strictly taken, presupposes a 
fundamental unity in which all that is eventually evolved 
or disclosed was involved or contained from the first. 
The whole is more than the sum of the parts, that is the 
character of evolution. A unity that is not more than 
its constituent elements is no real unity at all. Experi- 
ence fiu"nishes instances of this at every turn. The 
timbre of a musical note is more than the sum of its 
constituent tones: a melody, more than the sum of its 
separate notes"; again: "if the whole be a tree, it may 
be true that one fails to see the trunk because of the 
branches, and yet it is from the trunk that all these 
spring."^ 

It is for this reason that the past of landscape garden- 
ing is so fruitful of valuable suggestions for the present. 

^ Realm of Ends, Prof. James Ward, pp. loo, loi, 104. 



preface xi 

The past is not only valuable as a lesson with which 
to correct and enrich present-day practice, but because 
it will help to develop, or release perhaps, germs of 
thought, which will eventually correct and enrich all 
we learn in the future. 

My own experience has had considerable scope in 
the way of working out landscape gardening problems 
on parks and estates with Mr. Calvert Vaux, and by 
myself, not only in Central Park, New York, but in dif- 
ferent estates and parks of America. I have naturally 
studied many examples both at home and abroad. 
Nevertheless, I have cited few examples of my own work 
and have taken the liberty of devoting the greater part 
of the book to extracts from writings of unquestioned 
authority in support of my ideas, hoping thereby to 
more firmly establish the art of landscape architecture 
in the dignified position it already occupies in the 
brotherhood of artistic professions. 

It has been also recognized throughout the book that 
the object sought is the exposition of landscape-gar- 
dening doctrine and different methods of laying out 
grounds. The chapter at the end of the book is only 
intended to give practical suggestions in regard to the 
use of a certain number of choice groups of plants. 

My endeavour has been to make my ideas clear, and 
this is one reason I have used so many and lengthy 
quotations, expecting that by the use of the phrases of 
masters of the language as well as of the art of land- 
scape architecture I might attain a better degree of 
success. Master of the art of eloquent and lucid Ian- 



xii preface 

guage I do not claim to be, but I feel that, as a landscape 
architect, in advocating important landscape-garden- 
ing principles and ideas I have a message to deliver 
and therefore propose to convey it to the best of my 
ability, hoping that I may be able to impart a reason- 
able portion of my meaning to the reader. 

My thanks are due to Mr. August F. Jaccaci, Mr. 
William B. Van Ingen, and Dr. Fred Hovey Allen for 
the trouble they have taken to assist me by means of 
criticisms and valuable suggestions. Mr. W. W. Cook 
was the first to encourage me to undertake the work of 
writing this book and he has made many suggestions, 
the value of which I realize and appreciate. The 
compilation of authorities by Albert Forbes Sieveking 
has also afforded me assistance. As far as possible 
without unduly overloading the text I have endeav- 
oured to give credit to the authorities from whom I 
have quoted. I wish to express my appreciation of the 
courtesy and kindness which I have received from the 
officials of the New York Public Library and from those 
of the Library of Columbia University. I cannot close 
without again referring to the inspiration of the late 
Calvert Vaux, the influence of whose ideas on land- 
scape architecture has been and always will be for me 
a potent stimulus to seek to do only good work in 
the practice of my profession and to arrive at sound 
solutions of the various problems of the art. 

S. P. 

New York, January, 1915. 



CONTENTS 



Preface ....... 

I. — Introduction ..... 

II. — The Laying out of a Park or Estate 
III. — Size and Extent of an Estate 
IV. — Enclosures . 
V. — Location of Buildings 
VI. — Grass Spaces . 
VII. — Roads and Paths . 
VIII.— Water . 
IX. — Islands . 
X. — Rocks . 

XL — Grading and Shaping Grounds 
XII. — Plantations .... 

XIII. — Maintenance .... 

XIV. — Gardens .... 



PAGE 

iii 



40 
11 
91 
102 
120 
132 
143 
163 
170 
184 
200 
226 

238 



xiv Contents 

PAGE 

XV. — Public Parks ...... 264 

XVI. — Choice Trees and Shrubs . . . 305 

Bibliography ....... 337 

Index 343 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

The Treatment of the Natural Wood-lawn 

AND the Brook, by the Owner, on the 

Estate of John Staples, Esq., Newburgh, 

N. Y. . . . . . , Frontispiece * 

A Japanese Garden . . . . . .10'^ 

From a Photograph by Underwood & Underwood. (Repro- 
duced by Permission.) 

Mount Vernon, the Home of George Washing- 
ton ........ 58 

Reproduced by Permission of Doubleday, Page & Co. 
From a Photograph by Arthur G. Eldredge. 

BoscA, or Grove, on a Place near Elmsford, N. Y. 58 '^ 

Photograph by William J. Wilson. 

The Lawn in Front of the Castle, in the Park of 
MusKAU, AS Originally Laid Out ... 60 

Taken from an Old Print. 

The Same Lawn in Front of the Castle, in the 
Park of Muskau as Redesigned by Prince 
PucKLER . . . . . . .60^ 

Redrawn from an Old Print. 

A View of the Residence and the Drive at 

Skylands — A Country Estate in New Jersey . 70 ^ 

From a Photograph by William J. Wilson.' 



xvi IFllustrations 



Strathfield Saye, the Estate of the Duke of 

Wellington, England ..... 72^ 

From a Photograph by Brown Bros. (Reproduced by Per- 
mission.) 

A Country Home near Elmsford, N. Y. . . ^^^ 

From a Photograph by WiUiam J. Wilson. 

A Distant Vista in the Park of Prince Puckler 
von MusKAu, Silesia, Germany . . . 80 

From a Photograph by Thomas W. Sears, Providence, R. I. 

The Gates of the Highlands of the Hudson 
River from West Point, N. Y. ... 90 



From a Photograph by WiUiam Hale Kirk. 

Goethe's Cottage at Weimar .... 98 

Redrawn from an Old Print. 



/ 



A Honeysuckle Hedge Growing on Wire Mesh 
AND Iron Posts ...... 98*^ 

A Gardener's Cottage AT Skylands . . . 102 

From a Photograph by William J. Wilson. 

Windsor Castle, England ..... 102' 

From an Old Print. 

The Open Lawn near the Obelisk and the East 
Drive, near the Art Museum, Central Park, 
New York City . . . . . .120 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

A Diagram Showing the Planting Scheme for 
Trees and Shrubs ...... 134- 

From Piickler's Atlas, 1834. 

A Diagram Showing Different Arrangement of 
Paths ........ 134 

From Piickler's Atlas, 1834. 



irilustrations xvii 

PAGE 

A Winding Road IN THE Trosachs . . . 140"^ 

From a Photograph. 

A Straight Drive on the East Side of the Reser- 
voir BETWEEN 86th AND 94TH STREETS, CENTRAL 

Park, New York City ..... 142*^ 

Lover's Lane, a Winding Walk Parallel with 
THE South Side of the South Reservoir, 
Central Park, New York City . . . 144'^ 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

An Artificial Lake AT Skylands .... 146*^ 

From a Photograph by William J. Wilson. 

On the Shore of the Harlem Mere, Central 
Park, New York City . . . . .148' 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

A View of the River as Arranged and Improved 
BY Prince Puckler von Muskau, in his Park 
AT MusKAU, Silesia, Germany . . . .152' 

Redrawn from an Old Print. 

The Boundary Fence in the Park of Prince 
Puckler VON MusKAU . . . . -152 

Redrawn from an Old Print. 

An Artificial Lake Bordered by Rhododendrons, 
Irises, and Other Water Plants at Holm Lea, 
THE Estate of Professor Charles A. Sargent, 
Brookline, Mass. . . . . . . 158 ' 

From Photograph by Thomas E. Marr & Son. (Repro- 
duced by Permission.) 

The Castle and the Moat, and a View of the 
Park, on the Estate of Prince Puckler von 
Muskau 160*^ 

From a Photograph by Thomas W. Sears. 



xviii miustrations 

PAGE 

A Castle, Lake, and Moat on the Estate of 
Prince Puckler von Muskau . . .160 

From a Photograph by Thomas W. Sears, Providence, R. I. 

The Natural History Museum in Manhattan 
Square, and in Connection with it a Pool and 
Bridge in Central Park, New York City . 162^ 

Park Treatment of Water in the Neighbour- 
hood of Durham Cathedral, England . . 164 

From a Photograph by F. Hovey Allen. 

A Granite Wall Made of Large Blocks of Stone 
with Interstices Filled with Earth and Rock 
Plants. On the Estate of W. W. Cook Esq. 
Port Chester, N. Y . , . . . .174^ 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

The Rustic Bridge Adjoining the Cave in the 

Ramble, Central Park, New York City . . 180' 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

The Rough Stone Bridge, over an Arm of the 
Pond in Central Park, near 59TH Street and 
5TH Avenue, New York City .... 182 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

A Bridge at Leatherton, Dartmoor, England . 184 

From a Photograph Taken from Garden and Forest. (By 
Permission.) 

A Rough Stone Bridge in the Park on the Estate 
OF Prince Puckler von Muskau . . .184 

From a Photograph by Thomas W. Sears, Providence, R. I. 

The Waterfall near the Loch, Central Park, 
New York City ...... 186 

The Waterfall South of, and near, the Boulder 
Bridge, Central Park, New York City . , 186 



flllustrations xix 

PAGE 

A View of the North Meadow, with a Note- 
worthy Vista on Either Side of a Small Group 
OF Trees, Central Park, New York City . .196 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

A View of the Lawn of J. G. Agar Esq., Premium 
Point, New Rochelle, N. Y. . . . . 200 

A Diagram Showing Arrangement of Trees and 
Shrubs ........ 202 

From Piickler's Atlas, 1834. 

Diagrams Showing Arrangements of Rivers, 
Lakes, and Islands ...... 202 

From Piickler's Atlas, 1834. 

Diagrams Showing Arrangement of Trees and 
Shrubs 204 

From Piickler's Atlas, 1834. 

A Diagram Showing Different Arrangements of 
Islands ........ 204 

From Piickler's Atlas, 1834. 

A Diagram Showing Arrangement of Shrubs and 
Herbaceous Plants ..... 206 

From Piickler's Atlas, 1834. 

The Umpire Rock and the Ball Ground, Lower 
End of Central Park, near 59TH Street and 8th 
Avenue, New York City .... 232 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

A Picturesque View in the Ramble, Central 
Park, New York City 234 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

The Arrangement of the Beds of Foliage Plants 
such as Cannas, Coleuses, and Geraniums 



XX miustrations 



AROUND THE ArSENAL, CENTRAL PARK, NeW YoRK 

City ........ 240"^ 

From a Photograph by Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons. (Re- 
produced by Permission.) 

Another View of the Arrangement of the Beds 
OF Foliage Plants ...... 240 

From a Photograph by Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
(Reproduced by Permission.) 

The Boboli Gardens, Florence, with a View of 
the City ....... 250 

From a Photograph Used by Permission of William E. Bliz- 
Zard, L. A. 

The Villa D'Este, Tivoli, with the Casino at 
the Left, just out of Sight .... 254. 
From a Photograph Used by Permission of William E. Bliz- 
Zard, L. A. 

The Formal Garden on the Estate of R. Beale, 

Esq., Newburgh, N. Y ..... 256^ 

An Old-Fashioned Garden belonging to Mrs. 

Benedict, Union College, Schenectady, N. Y . 262 -' 

From a Photograph. 

The Bow Bridge over the Lake in Central Park, 
New York City ...... 292 ^ 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

The Boulder Bridge near the Harlem Mere, 
North End of Central Park, New York City. 294- 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 

The Plan of Park Treatment of the Territory 
Situated between the Capitol Grounds and the 
Washington Monument and Pennsylvania and 
Delaware Avenues, Washington, D.C . . 302 >'^ 

From the Author's Design. 



miustrations xxi 



Birch Woods on the Estate of Elon H. Hooker, 
Esq., Greenwich, Conn ..... 312' 

From a Photograph by Miss Frances Benjamin Johnston — 
Mrs. Mattie Edwards Hewitt. (Reproduced by Permis- 
sion.) 

A Picturesque Effect of the Native Dogwood, 

(CORNUS FLORIDA) ON THE ESTATE OF R. W. DE- 
FOREST, EsQ., Cold Spring, Long Island . . 314' 

From a Photograph by Miss Frances Benjamin Johnston — 
Mrs. Mattie Edwards Hewitt. (Reproduced by Per- 
mission.) 



The 
Art of Landscape Architecture 



INTRODUCTION 

HAVING studied carefully the works and the 
method of working of the Creator, the de- 
signer of a landscape can bring into successful 
play the great forces of nature, and, subordinating 
his own personality, can secure for his work an 
undying vitality, which can only follow from such a 
direct reliance on the resources of the Infinite. In 
every difficult work the key-note of success lies, of 
course, in the idea of thorough subordination; but it 
must be an intelligent penetrative subordination, an 
industrious, ardently artistic, and sleeplessly active 
ministry that is constantly seeking for an opportunity 
to do some little thing to help forward the great result 
on which nature is lavishing its powers of creation. "* 

' Concerning Lawn Planting, Calvert Vaux. 

X 



2 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

"All man's activity rests upon a given natural 
order; his work can only succeed when it strikes out 
in the direction prescribed by nature; it becomes 
empty and artificial if it tries to sever its connexions 
or to act in opposition to nature."^ 

"Let man turn where he will, undertake no matter 
what, he will ever come back again to that path that 
nature has mapped out for him. " 

When Goethe wrote the above words he doubtless 
knew Prince Puckler's great work on landscape garden- 
ing based upon his treatment of his estate at Muskau, 
for he has left on record a most appreciative estimate of 
Prince Puckler's ability and genius. 

As he paced the garden walks with the Prince whose 
life had been devoted to landscape-gardening art, the 
recollection of these words he had penned would have 
seemed doubly true to him. Something also like the 
quotation, "Time is not able to bring forth new truths, 
but only an unfolding of a timeless truth," may well 
have been remarked by either of these two men, when 
the Prince told his companion his experience in travel- 
ling in many countries. How he had found the best in 
England, and yet perhaps quite as good here and there, 
elsewhere, and how everywhere he found the nearer he 
kept to nature the nearer he was to the true ideal of 
landscape art. We can imagine his relating how he 
revelled in an old rose garden of Damascus full of 

' Rudolph Eucken's Problem of Human Life. 



1Intro&uction 3 

grace and charm and thus described in Eothen by 
Kinglake: 

"Wild as the highest woodland of a deserted 
home in England is the sumptuous Garden of Da- 
mascus. Forest trees tall and stately enough, if 
you could see their lofty crests, yet lead a bustling 
life of it below, with their branches struggling against 
strong numbers of bushes and wilful shrubs. The 
shade upon the earth is black as night. High, high 
above your head, and on every side down to the 
ground, the thicket is hemmed in and choked up by 
the interlacing boughs that droop with the weight of 
roses, and load the slow air with their damask breath. 
The rose trees which I saw were all of the kind we 
call damask — they grow to an immense height and 
size. There are no other flowers. Here and there 
are patches of ground made clear from the cover and 
these are either carelessly planted with some common 
and useful vegetable, or left free to the wayward ways 
of nature, and bear rank weeds moist looking and cool 
to your eyes, and refreshing the sense with their 
earthy and bitter fragrance. There is a lane opened 
through the thicket, so broad in some places that you 
can pass along side by side — in some so narrow (the 
shrubs are for ever encroaching) that you ought, if 
you can, to go on the first, and hold back the bough 
of the rose tree. And through this wilderness there 
tumbles a loud rushing stream, which is halted at last 
in the lowest corner of the garden and then tossed up 



4 Xant)scape Hccbitecture 

in a fountain by the side of a simple alcove. This 
is all. Never for an instant will the people of Damas- 
cus attempt to separate the idea of bliss from these 
wild gardens and rushing waters." 

At the same time Prince Puckler would probably 
remark on the trim artificiality and formalism of Ver- 
sailles, and of even the Bois de Boulogne, which many 
years afterwards Napoleon III asked him to treat 
professionally. 

Forget it if we will, and despise it as we may, in 
spite of our seeking after the striking and unusual, there 
is in the minds of most of us an instinctive love of the 
natural and simple. Often as we go about our duties 
and pleasures, there are bits of simple natural scenery 
which, if we think a moment, we will find most agree- 
able. These sensations are not necessarily the result 
of special knowledge. We like these scenes because 
the mind is constituted to like them. Doubtless, more- 
over, this appreciation of such scenes has always been 
consciously or unconsciously felt by intelligent beings 
whether they are wild or cultivated, provided they are 
not merely imitative, that is provided they are de- 
veloped on natural lines. 

"An imitation of nature, however successful," 
says Calvert Vaux, "is not art; and the purpose 
to imitate nature, or to produce an effect which shall 
seem to be natural, and therefore interesting, is 
not sufficient for success in the art of lawn planting, 
which depends on a happy combination of many 



irntro&uction 5 

circumstances that nature, unassisted, is not likely 
to bring about." 

It is also time that we in these modern days learn that 
we have not been the first to develop a genuine and 
sound instinct in landscape gardening. The Chinese 
had it highly developed in their own peculiar style 
2600 B.C., and of the Japanese the same may be said, 
although their ideas are different and not so old, and in 
a way not so original, having been derived from China 
and then transfused with the characteristic Japanese 
genius. They have that quality that persistently re- 
minds one in a remote and miniature way of the best 
park designs of all countries. 

The Hanging Gardens of Nebuchadnezzar are an- 
other instance of this ancient love of nature. They 
have been identified by explorers and found to be of 
such great size, as shown by their foundations, that 
they might readily support a replica of the natural hill 
or mountain which the monarch is said to have had 
fashioned at the whim of a homesick favourite who he 
had brought from Iran. Also in the garden at Damas- 
cus to-day we find a type of landscape gardening full of 
natural grace and charm built on good artistic lines of 
their kind, and which, in accordance with the unchange- 
able habit of the East, doubtless differs Httle from that 
of the Garden of Eden. 

The primitive ideas of the savage also have a certain 
element of natural charm and evince fundamental con- 
ceptions of a sort of landscape gardening. John La 



6 XanDscape Brcbitecture 

Farge, than whom no one had a keener instinct for good 
art, noted this during his visit to the Fiji Islands. 

All through the Egyptian, Greek, and Roman times, 
however, an iron-bound, rigid theory of design seems 
to have dominated landscape gardening. Nero and 
Pliny could and did locate their villas in romantic 
spots, but the villas themselves were designed with 
grounds about them artificial and stiff, though there 
were in some instances trees and shrubs and lawns at 
a little distance so arranged as to be not entirely devoid 
of the charm of free nature. 

"Moreover Nero turned the ruins of his country to 
his private advantage and built a house the orna- 
ments of which were not miracles of gems and gold, 
now used in vulgar luxuries, but lawns and lakes, 
and after the manner of a desert, here groves and 
there open spaces and prospects; the masters and 
centurions being Severus and Celer, whose genius 
and boldness could attempt by Art what Nature had 
denied and deceive with princely force. . . . 

"His Golden House, in a park stretching from the 
Palatine to the heights of the Esquiline, was on 
a scale of more than oriental magnificence. At 
last the master of the world was properly lodged. 
With colonnades three miles long, with its lakes 
and pastures and sylvan glades, it needed only a 
second Nero in Otho to dream of adding to its 
splendour." ' 

• Tacitus, Ann., C. 31. 



Untrobuction 7 

"My villa is so advantageously situated that it 
commands a full view of all the country round, yet 
you approach it by so insensible a rise that you find 
yourself upon an eminence without perceiving you 
ascended."' 

Quoting from a letter of Apollinaris translated by 
Sir Henry Wotton the following words are used : 

"First I must note a certain contrariety between 
building and gardening for as Fabrics should be 
regular so Gardens should be irregular, or at least 
cast in a very wild regularity. To exemplify my 
conceit I have seen a garden in a manner, perhaps, 
incomparable. The first access was by a walk like a 
Terrace from whence might be taken a general view 
of the whole plot below; but rather in a delightful 
confusion than with any plain distinction of the 
pieces. From this the beholder descending many 
steps was afterwards conveyed again by several 
mountings and valings to various entertainments of 
his sent and sight, which I shall not need to describe 
for that were poetical, let me note this, that everyone 
of these diversities was as if he had been magically 
transported into a new garden." 

Down through the middle ages the classical or Roman 
spirit of formality dominates everything that can be 
possibly termed landscape gardening until the arrival of 
its late Renaissance in the seventeenth century. 

' Pliny the Younger. 



8 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

It is a strange fact that about this time (1690) the 
Jesuit Father Attiret, with his companion missionaries 
working in China, began writing home about the won- 
derful gardens in that country, where the imitation of 
nature seemed to be the dominating factor of their 
design. The Jesuit Father wrote about the end of the 
seventeenth century. Sir WilHam Chambers, quot- 
ing him in 1777, says that in one of the Imperial Gar- 
dens near Pekin, was an imitation of the great city of 
Pekin, and thus describes their landscape gardening : 

"The Chinese Gardeners very seldom finish any of 
their walks en cul de Sac, carefully avoiding all 
unpleasant disappointments. In straight roads of 
smaller dimension the Chinese very artfully imitate 
the irregular workings of nature, for although the 
general direction be a straight line, yet they carefully 
avoid all appearance of stiffness or formality by plant- 
ing some of the trees out of the common line; by 
inclining some of them out of the upright, or by 
employing different species of plants and placing 
them at irregular distances, with their borders 
sometimes bare, and at other times covered with 
honeysuckle and sweet briar, or surrounded with 
underwood." 

Then, just as the same idea often comes to several 
people independently and without the knowledge of 
the other, this natural style of landscape gardening, the 
true art as now fully recognized, suddenly flowered. 



1[ntroC>uction 9 

At the same time Koempfer the Dutch botanist and 
traveller thus wrote home about Japanese gardens: 

"A Japanese Garden must be at least 30 feet 
square and consist of the following essential parts. 

" 1st : The ground is partly covered with roundish 
stones — the large being laid in the middle as a path 
to walk on without injuring the gravel, the whole in 
a seeming but ingenious confusion. 

"2nd: Some few flower bearing plants planted 
confusedly though not without some certain rules. 
Amidst the plants stands sometimes a Saguer as 
they call it, a strange outlandish tree, sometimes 
a dwarf tree or two. 

"3rd: A small rock or hill in the corner of the 
garden made in imitation of nature curiously adorned 
with birds and insects cast in brass and placed 
between the stones, sometimes the model of a temple 
stands upon it, built, as for the sake of the prospect 
they generally are, on a remarkable eminence on the 
borders of a precipice. Often a small rivulet runs 
down the stones with an agreeable noise, the whole in 
due proportion and as nearly as possible resembling 
nature. 

"4th: A small bush or wood on the side of the 
hill for which the gardeners choose such trees as 
will grow close to one another and plant and cut 
them according to their largeness, nature and the 
colour of their flowers and leaves, so as to make the 
whole very accurately imitate a natural wood or forest. 



10 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

"5th : A cistern or pond as mentioned above, with 
alive fish kept in it and surrounded with proper 
plants, that is such as love the watery soil, and 
would lose their beauty and greenness if planted on 
dry ground. It is a particular profession to lay out 
these gardens and keep them so curiously and nicely 
as they ought to be. Nor doth it require less skill 
and ingenuity to contrive and fit out the rocks and 
hills above mentioned." 

Milton a little earlier wrote a description of the 
Garden of Eden in Paradise Lost, which distinctly 
breathed the modern spirit of art, and was so graphic 
that Walter Bagehot asserts that "you could draw a map 
of the description." 

Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, 

Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green. 
As with a rural mound, the champain head 

Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides 
With thicket overgown, grotesque and wild. 

Access denied; and overhead up grew 
Impenetrable height of lofty shade, 

Cedar, and Pine, and Fir, and branching palm, 
A sylvan scene, and, as the ranks ascend 

Shade above shade, a woody theatre 
Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops 

The verdurous wall of Paradise upsprung. 

In this pleasant soil 
His far more pleasant garden God ordained. 

Flowers worthy of Paradise which not nice Art 




A Japanese Garden. 
F.O. a Photo..aph by Unde.wood Sc Unde.wood. (Reproduced by Pe.n.iss..on.) 



UntroDuction u 

In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon 
Poured forth profuse on hill and dale and plain. 

A happy rural seat of various view: 
Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm. 

Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks 
Grazing the tender herb. 

Another side, umbrageous grots and caves 

Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine 

Lays forth her purpling grape, and gently creeps 
Luxuriant; meanwhile murmuring waters fall 

Down the slope hills dispersed, or in a lake, 

That to the fringed bank with myrtle crowned 

Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams.^ 

By the middle of the eighteenth century the flower 
of this Renaissance of natural landscape gardening was 
in full bloom. Thomas Whately, who died in 1772, 
writes thus: 

"The English in such a situation attempt to humour 
nature; the French in such a situation attempt to 
hide her." 

And Abbe Delille about the same time taught as 
sound ideas of the art as could be found in the most 
modern books on the subject: 

"Rapin has sung Gardens of the regular style, 
and the monotony attached to the great regularity 
has passed from the subject to the poem. The 

' Paradise Lost, Book IV. 



12 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

imagination naturally a friend to liberty here walks 
painfully in the involved design of the parterre, anon 
expires at the end of a long straight alley. Every- 
where it regrets the slightly disordered beauty and 
the piquant irregularity of Nature. Finally he has 
only treated the mechanical part of the art of Gar- 
dening; he has entirely forgotten the most essential 
part, which seeks in our sensations, in our feeling, 
the source of the pleasures which country scenes 
and the beauties of nature perfected by art occasion. 
In a word his gardens are those of the architect ; the 
others are those of the philosopher, the painter, the 
poet. " 

Horace Walpole declared that Mr. Pope undoubtedly 
contributed to form Kent's taste, and wrote as follows: 

"At that moment appeared Kent; painter enough 
to taste the charms of landscape, bold and opinion- 
ative enough to dare and dictate, and born with 
a genius to strike out a great system from the twi- 
light of imperfect essays. He leaped the fence and 
saw that all nature was a garden. He felt a delicious 
contrast of hill and valley changing imperceptibly 
into each other, tasted the beauty of the gentle 
swell and concave scoop, and rem.arks how loose 
groves crowned an easy eminence with happy orna- 
ment, and while they called in the distant view 
between their graceful stems, removed and extended 
the perspective by delusive comparison. Thus the 
pencil of his imagination bestowed all the arts of 



fntro&uction 13 

the landscape on the scenes he handled. The great 
principles on which he worked were perspective, and 
light and shade. Groups of trees broke too uniform 
or too extensive a lawn ; evergreens and woods were 
opposed to the glare of the champaign, and where 
the view was less fortunate, or so much exposed as to 
be beheld at once, he blotted out some of the thick 
shades to divide it into variety, or to make the richest 
scene more enchanting by reserving it to a further 
advance of the spectator's step. Thus selecting 
favourite objects, and veiling deformities by screens 
of plantations, sometimes allowing the crudest waste 
to add its foil to the richest theatre, he reaHzed the 
compositions of the greatest masters in painting. 
Where objects were wanting to animate his horizon, 
his taste as an architect would bestow immediate 
termination. His buildings, his seats, and his temple 
were more the work of his pencil than his com- 
passes. " 

These landscape-gardening authorities in the eight- 
eenth century had an influence which was more potent 
than that of any similar authority at the present time. 
Naturally there were fewer places in a smaller popu- 
lation, but comparatively speaking, people apparently 
took more interest in their country places then, than 
they do now, chiefly perhaps because they spent a 
far greater portion of their time in the country, and had 
fewer subjects of interest elsewhere and less facilities 
afforded them for travelling and living in other parts 



14 Xan&scape Hrcbltecture 

of the globe. It was moreover a great literary age, and 
writers and poets like Pope, Walpole, Shenstone, Gray, 
Cowper, and Addison all wrote enthusiastically and 
understandingly on landscape gardening. For instance 
take the following examples from Shenstone's Essay on 
Landscape Gardening; 

"Ground should be considered with a view to its 
original character whether it be the grand, the 
savage, etc." 

"The eye should follow down upon the water. " 

" No straight lines. " 

"Vistas should look natural, a kind of balance in 
nature." 

"Art should never be allowed to set a foot in 
the province of nature, otherwise than clandestinely 
and by night." 

"Hedges appearing as such are universally bad. 
They discover art in nature's province." 

"Art indeed is often requisite to collect and 
epitomize the beauties of nature, but should never 
be suffered to put her mark on them." 

"In gardening it is no small matter to enforce 
either grandeur or beauty by surprise, — for instance, 
by abrupt transition from their contraries, — but to 
lay stress on surprise only, for example on the surprise 
occasioned by a ha-ha (or ditch), without including 
any nobler purpose is a symptom of bad taste and a 
violent fondness for mere concetto. " 

Another authority writes that Shenstone allowed the 



Untrobuction 15 

charms of the villa to overpower those of the furze 
and rock both in his grounds and in his poems, and re- 
marks that one may smile at the following lines: 

"But oh! the transport most allied to song 
In some fair villa's peaceful bound 
To catch soft hints from Nature's tongue 
And bid Arcadia bloom around." 

Alexander Pope says: 

"Consult the Genius of the place in all." 

Delille writes: 

"Avant tout, connissez votre site et de lieu Adorez 
le genie et consultez le Dieu. " 

Joseph Addison in The Tatler, No. 218, speaks thus: 

"Writers who have given us an account of China 
tell us the inhabitants of that country laugh at the 
plantations of our Europeans, which are laid out 
by the rule and line; because they say any one may 
place trees in equal rows and uniform figures. They 
choose rather to show a genius in works of this nature, 
and therefore always conceal the art by which they 
direct themselves. They have a word, it seems, in 
their language by which they express the particular 
beauty of a plantation that thus strikes the imagin- 
ation at first sight without discovering what it is 
that has so agreeable an effect. " 

Montesquieu in his Essay on Taste has this to say: 

"It is then the pleasure which an object gives 



1 6 Xan&0cape Hrcbitecture 

to us which carries us on to another; it is for this 
reason that the soul is always seeking new things and 
is never at rest. Thus you will always be able to 
please the soul, whenever you show it many things, 
or more than it hoped to see. 

"In this way may be explained the reason why we 
take pleasure in seeing a perfectly regular garden, 
and yet are pleased to see a wild and rural spot; the 
same cause produces these effects. 

"As we like to see a large number of objects, we 
would wish to extend our view, to be in several 
places, traverse greater space; in short our soul 
escapes from bounds, and wishes, so to speak, to 
widen the sphere of its presence; and derives great 
pleasure from a distant view. But how to effect this? 
In town our view is confused by houses, in the 
country by a thousand obstacles; we can scarcely 
see three or four trees. Art comes to our assistance 
and discovers to us nature which hides itself; 
we love art and we love it better than nature, that is 
nature concealed from our eyes; but when we find 
beautiful situations, when our unfettered view can 
see in the distance meadows, streams, hills, and these 
dispositions are, so to speak, expressly created, it is 
enchanted otherwise than when it sees the gardens of 
Le Notre ; because nature does not copy itself, whereas 
art always bears its own likeness. That is why in 
painting we prefer a landscape to the plan of the most 
beautiful garden in the world, it is because painting 
only chooses nature where it is beautiful, where the 



1IntroC>uction 17 

sight can extend to a distance and to its full scope, 
where it is varied, where it can be viewed with 
pleasure. " 

Most of the prominent men of the day were pro- 
foundly and intelligently interested in landscape garden- 
ing. Even the monarch of the literary world, at that 
time, Doctor Samuel Johnson, although a purely city 
man, hating the country, was obliged to pay attention 
to landscape gardening and give it a whimsical and 
grudging criticism and approval. 

France in a less degree, in the midst of the show 
and display of its decadent civilization doing most of its 
landscape gardening after the style of Le Notre, still 
gave this Renaissance of landscape gardening a pro- 
minent place in its life. Rousseau, the most profound 
literary influence of the century, made the spirit of 
the natural style the dominant note in his philosophy, 
and actually inspired the Marquis Girardon to create 
through the skill of M. Morel the great estate of Er- 
menouville, a well-known example of the modern 
development of the art. 

Arthur Young, writing at the time, thus describes 
this place: 

"You reach Ermenouvelle through another part of 
the Prince of Conde's forest which joins the orna- 
mented grounds of the Marquis Girardon. 

"We were first shown that which is so famous 
for the small Isle of Poplars, in which reposes all 
that was mortal of that extraordinary and inimitable 



1 8 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

writer. He was afterwards moved to the Pantheon. 
This scene is as well imagined and well executed as 
coiild be wished. The water is between forty and 
fifty acres; hills rise from it on both sides, and it is 
sufficiently closed in at both ends by a tall wood 
to render it sequestered. The remains of departed 
genius stamp a melancholy idea, from which de- 
coration would depart too much, and accordingly 
there is little. We viewed the scene in a still even- 
ing. The declining sun threw a lengthened shade on 
the lake and silence seemed to repose on its unruffled 
bosom; as some poet says, I forget who. 

"The other lake is larger; it fills the bottom of 
the vale, around which are some rough, rocky, wild, 
and barren sand hills; either broken or spread with 
heath; in some places wooded, and in others scattered 
thinly with junipers. The character of the scene is 
that of wild undecorated nature, in which the hand 
of art was meant to be concealed as much as was con- 
sistent with ease of access. The last scene is that of 
a river, which is made to wind through a lawn, reced- 
ing from the house, and broken by wood : the ground 
is not fortunate; it is too dead a flat, and nowhere 
viewed to much advantage. " 

About the same time we find a part of the Versailles 
gardens taking on the new form under the name of 
Petit Trianon. Of this work Arthur Young writes : 

"To Trianon to view the Queen's Jardin Anglais. 
I had a letter from Mons. Richard which procured 



irntro&uctfon 19 

admittance. It contains about 100 acres disposed 
in the taste of what we read of in books of Chinese 
Gardening whence it is supposed the English style 
was taken. There is more of Sir William Chambers 
here than of Mr. Brown, more effort than nature 
— ^and more expense than taste. It is not easy to 
conceive anything that art can introduce in a garden 
that is not here; woods, rocks, lawns, lakes, rivers, 
islands, grottoes, walks, temples, and even villages. 
There are parts of the design very pretty, and well 
executed. The only fault is too much crowding; 
which has led to another, that of cutting the lawn by 
too many gravel walks, an error to be seen in almost 
every garden I have met with in France. " 

Abbe Delille did his share in advancing the new ideas 
which had already been advocated by Pere Huet and 
Dufresny in the middle of the seventeenth century 
before Addison or any of the English critics wrote on 
the subject. 

In his Huetiana (1722) Pierre Daniel Huet, Bishop 
of Avranches, writes: 

"Although natural beauties are preferable to 
artistic ones, that is not the taste of this century. 
Nothing pleases that is not costly. A fountain 
issuing in great cascades from the foot of a rock 
tumbling over a golden sand, the clearest and freshest 
water in the world will not please the people at court 
as much as a jet of foetid and muddy water drawn at 
enormous cost from a frog marsh. A factitious 



20 Xan&scape BrcFjitecture 

parterre composed of earth brought together accord- 
ing to the plan of Monsieur Le Notre, having for its 
whole decoration but a few rows of box which never 
distinguish the seasons by change of colour, sur- 
rounded by vast sanded alleys, very compact and 
very bare ; such a parterre forms the delight of polite 
society. It leaves to small cits and peasants this 
rustic lawn, this rural turf. It requires palisades 
erected with the line, and at the point of the shears. 
The green shades of those tufted birches and of those 
great oaks which were found at the birth of time are 
in bad taste and worthy of the grossness of our fathers. 
Is not to think thus to prefer a painted face to the 
natural colour of a beautiful countenance? 

"Paint on one side a fashionable garden and on 
the other one of those beautiful landscapes in which 
nature spreads her riches undisguised; one will 
present a very tedious object, the other will charm 
you by its delight. You will be tired of one at first 
glance, you will never weary of looking at the other, 
such is the force of nature to make itself beloved in 
spite of the pilferings and deceits of art. 

' ' I have no more approval of the gardens in fashion 
than for iron screens (Clairvoies)." 

Of Charles Dufresny, 1 648-1 724, natural son of Henry 
IV and a gardener's daughter, soi-disant rival of Le 
Notre, creator of the gardens of Mignaux near Poissy 
and of the Abbe Pajot near Vincennes, a writer says: 

"The first indications of the Jesuits of Chinese 



irntroC>uction 21 

gardens (1690) had struck his ardent and para- 
doxical imagination. He loved to work upon an 
unequal and irregular ground (Alphana). He 
wanted obstacles to overcome, if there were none. 
He raised a mountain on a plain. His style had 
something of the modern English manner, but his 
projects were rarely carried into execution. Gabriel 
Thouin asserts {Plans raisonnee) that the first ex- 
ample of modern landscape gardening was given 
by Dufresny in the Fauborg St. Antoine. Du- 
fresny was a man of 'ideas,' one of which Montes- 
quieu adopted in his Lettres de Paysannes." 

If Louis XIV had not thought the plans Dufresny 
made for Versailles too expensive we might have had 
something very different in spirit from that of Le 
Notre's final development. 

In Germany about the middle of the eighteenth 
century we find Hirschfeld who exhibits a knowledge 
of the natural style and quotes predecessors who have 
the same feelings. It is wonderful how quickly a new 
and striking phase of art will all at once bud and come 
into full flower. The germ of the idea may be almost 
silently developing at a much earlier date as in the case 
of Milton and Pere Huet, but the actual flower of 
modern landscape gardening appears only in its full 
beauty and perfection of artistic development in the 
middle of the eighteenth century in the works of 
Kent, Brown, and Humphrey Repton and soon after- 
ward of Prince Piickler von Muskau. 



22 Xan55cape Hrcbitecture 

Andrew Jackson Downing writes in 1844, in his 
work on landscape gardening: 

"Brown seems to have been a mannerist with so 
Httle true sympathy with nature as to be the jest of 
every succeeding generation — great and fashionable 
as the fortune he amassed and the long list of royal 
and noble places which he remodelled sufficiently 
prove him to have been in his day. * Capabilit j'' 
Brown,' as he was nicknamed, saw in every new 
place great capabilities, but unfortunately his own 
mind seems to have furnished but one model — a 
round lake, a smooth bare lawn, a clump of trees, and 
a boundary belt — which he expanded with few varia- 
tions, to suit the compass of an estate of a thousand 
acres, or a cottage with a few roods. " 

Loudon says: 

"The places he altered are beyond all reckoning. 
Improvement was the fashion of the time, and there 
was scarcely a country gentleman who did not, on 
some occasion or other, consult the gardening idol 
of the day. Mason the poet praises this artist and 
Horace Walpole apologizes for not praising him." 

Here are some wise and sensible remarks found in 
the writings of Humphrey Repton, about 1797: 

"If it should appear that, instead of displaying 
new doctrines or furnishing novel ideas, this volume 
serves rather by a new method to elucidate old 



irntro&uctfon 23 

established principles, and to confirm long received 
opinions, I can only plead in my excuse that true 
taste, in every art, consists more in adapting tried 
expedients to peculiar circumstances than in that 
inordinate thirst after novelty, the characteristic of 
uncultivated minds, which from the facility of in- 
venting wild theories, without experience, are apt 
to suppose that taste is displayed by novelty, genius 
by innovation, and that every change must neces- 
sarily tend to improvement." 

There may have been less perfection and variety of 
finish in the use of trees and shrubs and flowers, and of 
other details of the garden and lawn, but the actual art 
work, the design, is hardly finer to-day than in the days 
of Repton and Prince Puckler. It might be well to note 
here that it is a mistake to think that a superior know- 
ledge of plants gives a paramount advantage to the 
landscape gardener. His main strength should pri- 
marily lie in the exercise of the actual art, in the ability 
to design a park or country place on principles funda- 
mental and long recognized; this is where the highest 
genius of landscape gardening should find scope. 

Repton died in 18 18, and in England he has had no 
successor who has conquered such a comparatively wide 
area of practice and such universal acceptance as an 
authority. J. C. Loudon and Wm. Robinson have each 
contributed in their own way much to the adoption of 
sound views in landscape gardening. The same state- 
ment applies to Andrew J. Downing, and to F. L. Olm- 



24 Xan&scape Hrcbltecture 

sted and Calvert Vaux to whom America owes Central 
Park in New York, the finest example of park-making 
in the world. The French are great gardeners, and of 
landscape gardening principles and lore Edouard 
Andre is a worthy and competent exponent, but 
although the French generally make their parks nowa- 
days in what is called the English style, which is really 
only what is recognized as good landscape gardening 
the world over, yet in spite of all, they sometimes allow 
themselves to instinctively recall Le Notre and Ver- 
sailles in their designs of parks and estates. 
Victor Hugo writes in Odes and Ballads: 

"Thought is a fruitful and virgin soil, whose 
products must insist on growing in freedom, and, 
so to speak, by chance, without arrangement, with- 
out being drilled into knots in one of Le Notre's classi- 
cal gardens, or the flowers of language in a treatise 
on rhetoric. Let it not, however, be supposed that 
this freedom must beget disorder; quite the reverse. 
Let us expand our idea. Compare for an instant a 
royal garden of Versailles, well levelled, well kept, 
well swept, well raked, well gravelled, quite full of 
little cascades, little basins, little groves, bronze 
tritons in ceremonious dalliance with oceans pumped 
up at great cost from the Seine, marble fauns woo- 
ing dryads allegorically imprisoned in multitudes of 
conical yews, cylindrical laurels, spherical orange 
trees, elliptical myrtles, and other trees whose natural 
form, too trivial no doubt, has been gracefully cor- 



IfntroDuctton 25 

rected by the gardener's shears; compare this garden, 
so extolled, with a primitive forest of the New World 
with its giant trees, its tall grasses, its deep vegetation, 
its thousand buds of a thousand hues, its broad 
avenues, where light and shadow play only upon 
the verdure, its wild harmonies, its great rivers 
which drift along islands of flowers, its , stupendous 
waterfalls, over which hover rainbows. We will 
not say, Where is the magnificence? Where is the 
grandeur? Where is the beauty? But simply, 
Where is the order? Where is the disorder? 

"In one, fountains, imprisoned, or diverted from 
their course, gush from petrified Gods, only to stag- 
nate : trees are transplanted from their native soil, torn 
away from their climate and forced to submit to the 
grotesque caprices of the shears and line: in a word 
natural order everywhere contradicted, inverted, 
upset, destroyed. In the other on the contrary, 
all obeys an unchangeable law, in all a God seems to 
dwell. Drops of water follow their course and form 
rivers, which will form seas: seeds choose their soil 
and produce a forest. The very bramble is beautiful 
there. Again we ask, where is the order? Choose 
then between the masterpiece of gardening and the 
work of nature ; between what is conventionally beau- 
tiful, and what is beautiful without rule ; between an 
artificial literature and an original poesy." 

There is much truth in these words as well as ex- 
travagance. Victor Hugo is thinking too much of 



26 XanDscape Hrcbftecture 

the primitive forest, which shoiild not be altogether 
the model as will be shown hereafter. Many of the 
French and Italian designs even at the present time 
strike a formal, artificial note in their most natural- 
looking conceptions. They make their curves so true 
and neat; there is too much artifice, and not enough 
suggestion or mystery, and mystery should form a part 
of nearly all landscape gardening in order to secure the 
highest kind of pleasure. The Germans and English 
and some other nations do excellent landscape garden- 
ing, but it is doubtful whether the present age is quite 
keeping up to the old standard of the art. Love of 
perfection in detail of tree and shrub and flowers has 
led many to forget or overlook fundamental principles 
as practised by the great masters of the profession. 
Certainly there is no landscape gardening of the present 
day that surpasses in fundamentals, if it equals, that 
done by Prince Ludwig Heinrich Herman Piickler on his 
estate of Muskau in southern Germany nearly a hundred 
years ago. In support of this statement I am sure I may 
be allowed to quote the authority of a landscape archi- 
tect, the late Chas. Eliot, than whom there has been in 
modern times no better writer anywhere on the principles 
of landscape gardening if we perhaps except A. J. Down- 
ing and the distinguished artists Frederick Law Olmsted 
and Calvert Vaux, creators of Central Park, New York. 
Mr. Eliot writes that Prince Puckler undertook: 

"Nothing less than the transformation of the al- 
most ugly valley of the Niesse into a vale of beauty 



1Intro&uction 27 

and delight; and the fact that he proposed to ac- 
complish this transformation not by extending 
architectural works throughout the valley, not by 
constructing mighty terraces, mile-long avenues, or 
great formal water basins, such as he had seen in 
Italy, at Versailles, and at Wilhelmshohe — but by 
quietly inducing nature to transform herself. He 
would not force upon his native landscape any 
foreign type of beauty; on the contrary, his aim was 
the transfiguration, the idealization of such beauty as 
was indigenous. He was intent upon evolving 
from out of the confused natural situation a com- 
position in which all that was fundamentally 
characteristic of the scenery, the history and in- 
dustry of his estate should be harmoniously and 
beautifully united. 

"One circumstance greatly favoured the happy 
accomplishment of his design — namely, the very 
fact that he had to do with a valley and not 
with a plain or plateau. The irregularly rising 
land skirting the river-levels supplied a frame 
for his picture: the considerable stream, flowing 
through the midst of the level, with here and there 
a sweep toward the enclosing hills, became the all- 
connecting and controlling element in his landscape. 
Well he knew that what artists call 'breadth' 
and 'unity of effect' was fully assured if only he 
abstained from inserting impertinent structures or 
other objects in the midst of this hill bounded 
intervale. " 



28 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

The river scenes of Muskau were changed with great 
effect by diverting an arm of the main Hne to another 
course leading a long distance around by the castle, 
enlarging the moat (see illustration), and so flowing 
on through several pools to the end of the artificial water 
far above where it again takes the main and original 
direction as shown in the illustration. To-day it all 
looks, not only natural, but as if it had never been 
otherwise. 

Another plea for the natural style will be found in 
Olmsted and Vaux's Annual Report to the Prospect 
Park Commissioners, January, 1871: 

"As the park has come more in use, new habits 
and customs and with them new tastes have been 
developed. There is already many times as much 
pleasure driving as there was five years ago, and not 
a few persons are more attracted to the park by what 
is to be seen on the road, than by any conscious 
enjoyment of inanimate nature to be seen from it, 
consequently a new class of comment on the design 
is now sometimes heard: unfavourable comparisons 
are made between the park [Prospect Park] and cer- 
tain foreign pleasure grounds, both for the lack of 
opportunity for enjoying the sight of a large gay 
assemblage, and its entire want of stateliness and 
artistic grandeur. In these comparisons and in the 
demands which they suggest there are important 
considerations which are generally overlooked. 

" In southern Europe where the ground is parched, 



Untrobuction 29 

and turf and delicate low foliage wither unless 
carefully and laboriously watered and tended; where 
also, in most cases, rambling in the country or beyond 
the outskirts of towns is not only toilsome but 
dangerous ; where ladies seldom go out-of-doors until 
after sunset and then closely veiled, and where the 
people look for amusement almost exclusively to 
social excitements, public pleasure grounds have 
usually been important chiefly as places of rendevous 
and general congregation. Their plans have been 
characterized by formal and stately plantations and 
much architectural and floral decoration. Where 
anything like landscape effects have been attempted 
to be added to these, it has generally been not as a 
temptation to exercise, but simply as a picture, usu- 
ally of a romantic and often of a distinctly theatrical 
character. The primary and avowed object of such 
grounds is to supply people with accommodation for 
coming together to see one another, not merely as 
personal acquaintances, but as an assemblage. 

"The style of laying out grounds adapted to this 
purpose has, till recently at least, prevailed, not only 
in Italy, Spain, and Portugal, but throughout France, 
and where French influence has been strong the woods 
and lawns of both public and private parks and chases 
are nearly always traversed by straight avenues, 
with well defined circular carrefours, often empha- 
sized by architectural objects at their points of 
junction, as may be seen at the Bois de Boulogne. 
While, however, the custom of outdoor assemblage 



30 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

and of the promenade for recreation has even become 
far more important, a tendency to a different style 
in the preparation of pleasure grounds has been 
growing wherever the climate admits of its being 
adapted with success. The changes made in the plan 
of the Bois de Boulogne under the late Empire 
(partly under the advisement of Prince Piickler), 
those also in the Bois de Vincennes, the Pare Mon- 
ceau, and other grounds in France, and the plan of 
the new park at Brussels, all show progress in this 
direction, though the liking for detached scenic 
effects which might be suitable for framing, or for 
the background of a ballet, still influences most 
landscape work. 

" It is to be observed, too, that on the completion of 
the Avenue de I'lmperatrice as an approach to the 
Bois de Boulogne, and of the narrow informal drive 
around the lake with its various landscape effects, 
that the part of this system of pleasure grounds 
which is laid out in the natural style was immediately 
adopted as the daylight promenade ground of Paris 
in preference to the much wider, more accessible, more 
stately, and in every way more convenient and mag- 
nificent avenue of the Champs Elysees. 

"It will be thus seen that the grander and more 
splendid style of public pleasure grounds, while it is 
peculiarly adapted to display a great body of well 
dressed people and of equipages to advantage, and is 
most fitting for processions, pomps, and ceremonies, 
while also it seems admirably to extend and soften 



Hutro^uction 31 

architectural perspectives and to echo and supple- 
ment architectural grandeur, is not preferred where 
there are moderate advantages for the adoption 
of a natural style, even for the purposes of a prom- 
enade. The reason may be that where carriages are 
used in the frequent passing over of long spaces of 
bare surface which they make necessary, formal 
arrangements and confined scenes become very tire- 
some. In passing along a curving road, its borders 
planted irregularly, the play of light and shade and 
the succession of objects more or less distinct which 
are disclosed and obscured in succession is never 
wholly without interest, while an agreeable open 
landscape is always refreshing in contrast to the 
habitual confinement of the city." 

It is evident therefore that in entering on the con- 
sideration of the principles and practice of landscape 
gardening it is well to keep in mind that we are, if we 
are doing good work, not undertaking new artistic 
endeavour, but following lines literally as old as the 
hills. Practical everyday studies of nature are what 
are needed. All the references made confirm this view. 
Authorities are often indeed illuminating and have 
great value; not only to inform the student, but to 
stimulate to further study in the right direction, and to 
suggest where to find new material for study. Books of 
any kind, however, can be no more than helps in the 
right direction, for practical experience and the study 
of nature in park and garden and diversified woodland 



32 Xan^scape Brcbitecture 

and meadow and water should be considered of first 
importance, and good examples of such work continu- 
ally sought. Turner and Claude found it of the great- 
est value for their painting to make thousands of 
sketches of trees and other natural objects; how much 
more should the student of landscape gardening find 
advantage in studying the appearance and habits of 
trees and shrubs and their best arrangement when 
composed in a park picture, and this picture or design 
should be when worked out idealized and transfused 
with genuine feeling for nature after the same fashion 
as the work of Claude. It is above all necessary to 
learn how nature treats her trees and shrubs, her hill- 
sides and meadows, and her features of island and 
water. If one gives oneself to the study of examples 
of these effects in nature it will become fascinating, 
and the freshness of conceptions of endless combinations 
which continually meet the eye will lead one to be ever 
seeking to solve new problems and learning to study 
new lessons of a similar kind in landscape gardening. 

Excellent, however, and all-important as this con- 
tinual reference to nature is in landscape-gardening 
studies, it is quite as important to learn all about the 
habits of plants, the quality and treatment of soil, and, 
above all, how to fit the new into the old. On nearly 
every place there are some agreeable natural features 
that deserve preservation and the best effect should 
not be injured by any new elements that may be 
introduced. It is easy to see that this is the case, but it 
is a difficult proposition to manage to introduce the new 



irntroC>uction 33 

arrangement without in some way destroying the fine 
quality of the old, natural beauty. 

The success of the problem of the proper disposition 
and location of gardens and decorations adjoining the 
house or other buildings largely depends on the success- 
ful blending of the natural forms, whether old or new, 
with the strictly architectural conceptions. This is 
probably one of the most difficult undertakings in the 
whole province of the art of landscape gardening. 
There are many details which need to be studied in 
order to enable a student to solve landscape gardening 
problems, but this perhaps is the most difficult one. 

Thomas Whately says: 

"These mischiefs, however, were occasioned, not 
by the use but the perversion of art; it excluded 
instead of improving upon nature, and thereby de- 
stroyed the very end it was called in to promote. 
So strange an abuse probably arose from an idea 
of some necessary correspondence between the man- 
sion, and the scene it immediately commanded; the 
forms therefore of both were determined by the 
same rules; and terraces, canals, and avenues were 
but so many variations of the plan of the building. 
The regularity thus established spread afterwards to 
more distant quarters ; there indeed the absurdity was 
acknowledged, as soon as a more natural disposition 
appeared, but a prejudice in favour of art, as it is 
called, just about the house still remains. If, by the 
term, regularity is intended the principle is equally 



34 XanDscape Hrcbltccture 

applicable to the vicinity of any other building; and 
every temple in the garden ought to have its concomi- 
tant formal slopes and plantations, or the conformity 
may be reversed, and we may reasonably contend 
that the building ought to be irregular, in order to be 
consistent with the scene it belongs to. The truth is 
that both propositions are erroneous, architecture re- 
quires symmetry ; the objects of nature freedom ; and 
the properties of the one cannot with justice be trans- 
ferred to the other. But if by the term no more is 
meant than merely design the dispute is at an end ; 
choice, arrangement, composition, improvement, and 
preservation are so many symptoms of art, which 
may occasionally appear in several parts of a garden, 
but ought to be displayed without reserve near the 
house ; nothing there should be neglected ; it is a scene 
of the most cultivated nature; it ought to be en- 
riched; it ought to be adorned; and design may be 
avowed in the plan, and expense in the execution. 
Even irregularity is not excluded ; so capital a struc- 
ture may extend its influence beyond its walls, but 
its power should be exercised only over its immediate 
appendages; the flat form upon which the house 
stands is generally continued to a certain breadth 
from every side; and whether it be pavement or 
gravel may undoubtedly coincide with the shape of 
the building. The road which leads up to the door 
may go off from it in an equal angle, so that the two 
sides shall exactly correspond: and certain orna- 
ments, though detached, are rather within the pro- 



UntroDuction 35 

vince of the architecture than of gardening: works 
of sculpture are not hke buildings, objects familiar in 
scenes of cultivated nature; but vases, statues, and 
termini are usual appendages to a considerable ed- 
ifice; as such they may attend the mansion, and 
trespass a little upon the garden, provided they are 
not carried so far in it as to lose their connection with 
the structure. The fiat form and the road are also 
appurtenances to the house; all these may therefore 
be adapted to its form, and the environs will thereby 
acquire a degree of regularity; but to give it to the 
objects of nature, only on account of their proximity 
to others which are calculated to receive it, is, at 
best, a refinement." 

Price thought the principles of Claude should be 
followed as a guide. Lord Windham, in a letter to 
Humphrey Repton, asks very pertinently: 

"Does the pleasure we receive from the view of 
parks and gardens result from their affording sub- 
jects that would appear to advantage in a picture?" 
and answers, "That places are not to be laid out with 
a view to their appearance in a picture, but to the 
use and enjoyment of them in real life. " 

This is true in the sense that the aims of the designs 
of the painter and the landscape gardener cannot be 
said to be identical nor that the position of a tree well 
placed on the lawn would necessarily be suited to the 
design of the painted picture. It should be enough to 



36 • Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

say, however, that the purposes of the designs of both 
painter and landscape gardener are analogous, they 
travel on similar and more or less parallel lines, and 
both should look reverently to nature as their sole 
mistress. 

Loudon justly observes that : 

"The recognition of art is a first principle in 
landscape gardening, as in all other arts, and those 
of its professors have erred who supposed that the 
object of this art is merely to produce a facsimile of 
nature that could not be distinguished from a wild 
scene. " 

Mr. F. L. Olmsted recognized the justice of this 
when he wrote in the Spoils of the Park: 

"What artist so noble as he, who with far-reach- 
ing conception of beauty and designing power, 
sketches the outlines, writes the colours, and directs 
the shadows of a picture so great that nature shall be 
employed on it for generations, before the work he 
has arranged for her shall realize his intentions. " 

There has appeared a species of "natural" landscape 
gardening in the nineteenth century that is, to say the 
least, slightly specious and meretricious in its effect, 
and there is today even more than a suspicion of a 
tendency to yield to this desire to make the art of land- 
scape gardening fine and exquisite rather than simple 
and natural. 



■ffntrobuction 37 

M. Edouard Andre, who has been called the "most 
judicious and successful exponent of landscape garden- 
ing in France" by a high authority, writes thus: 

"Under the false pretext that lawns, waters, trees, 
and flowers are always pleasant, they have substi- 
tuted for the old geometrical garden a still more arti- 
ficial style. The former at least avowed its aim to 
show the hand of man and to master nature. The 
latter borrows the elements of nature, and under the 
pretence of imitating it, makes it play a ridiculous 
— I was going to say an effeminate — part. It is not 
— we say it emphatically — it is not this that consti- 
tutes landscape art. If art seeks means of action in 
nature, it is in order to turn them to account in a 
simple and noble way. " 

Mr. Olmsted in his Spoils of the Park further says : 

"In Paris this kind of 'natural' gardening re- 
ceived a great impetus in the days of Napoleon 
III because of the striking and spectacular effects 
it quickly produced by the profuse use of certain 
novel, exotic, and sickly forms of vegetation." 

Unfortunately this style of landscape gardening per- 
sists more than it should down to the present day in 
Paris, and elsewhere in France, and for that matter 
in all the principal capitals of Europe. 

In view of the great body of doctrine set forth in the 
following pages it will be evident that there should be 



38 Xant)5cape Hrcbitccture 

more recognition of actual principles, more display of 
good artistic sense in the use of landscape gardening 
materials. A great deal of the writing on landscape 
gardening is not much more than a description of 
the virtues and vices of certain trees and shrubs and 
flowers, their beauties and their drawbacks. Some at- 
tention should be given naturally to the practical side 
of the subject, but only enough to make plainer the 
application of the fundamental ideas. There is un- 
doubtedly a separation required — were it but tempo- 
rary — between what may be called fundamental ideas 
and what is mere detail. At present in landscape 
gardening as usually practised, good ideas based on 
sound precedents are words almost without meaning to 
most people. A complete, all-comprehending system 
is of course impossible at present and doubtless always 
will be. Yet, if real effort of thought could be concen- 
trated on cardinal issues and less padding of conven- 
tional and traditional details were foisted in, much 
might be done to make research into landscape-garden- 
ing lore more fruitful. 

This at least should be always kept in mind, that 
the art of landscape gardening has been an evolution of 
ideas originated and developed down through the ages 
by the unfolding of the genius and the practical experi- 
ence of skilled and cultured men. 

No man is entirely original, indeed it was said by 
John La Farge that if an idea were an original one it 
would be safe to say it would not be a good one. Land- 
scape gardening like everything else has its roots in the 



•(Introduction 39 

past, and the best art of this kind, or for that matter of 
any kind, is made up of the ideas obtained from many 
sources, both natural and historical. In The Philosophy 
of the Practical by Benedetto Croce are the following 
words : 

"He is a true poet (landscape architect) who feels 
himself at once bound to his predecessors and free, 
conservative and revolutionary, like Homer, Dante, 
and Shakespeare, who receive into themselves cen- 
turies of history, of thought and poetry and add to 
those centuries something that is the present and 
will be the future: charges du passe, gros de I'avenir. " 

And this growth is ever moving on, not without set- 
backs, at what seems to be slow and irregular advance, 
but in the long future we can confidently believe there 
will be always a day of better things. There are 
periods of seeming deadness in the development of 
landscaping as of other things, but there need be no 
despondency for 

"there is never real regression in history (or in land- 
scape gardening) , but only contradictions that follow 
upon solutions given and prepare new ones. "^ 

' B. Croce. 



II 

THE LAYING OUT OF A PARK OR ESTATE 

LAYING out grounds, as it is called, may be 
considered as a liberal art, in some sort, like 
poetry or painting; and its object like that 
of the liberal arts is, or ought to be, to move the 
affections under the control of good sense; that is 
those of the best and wisest ; but speaking with more 
precision, it is to assist nature in moving the affections, 
and surely, as I have said, the affections of those 
who have the deepest perception of the beauty of 
nature; who have the most valuable feelings, that 
is the most permanent, and most independent, the 
most ennobling, connected with nature and human 
life. No liberal art aims merely at the gratification 
of an individual or a class: the painter or poet is 
degraded in proportion as he does so; the true ser- 
vants of the arts pay homage to the human kind as 
impersonated in imwarped, enlightened minds. If 
this be so when we are merely putting together words 
or colours, how much more ought the feeling to pre- 
vail when we are in the midst of the realities of things ; 

of the beauty and harmony, of the joys and happiness 

40 



Ube Xa^ing ®ut of a park or Bstate 41 

of living creatures; of men and children, of birds and 
beasts, of hills and streams, and trees and flowers ; with 
the changes of night and day, evening and morning, 
summer and winter; and all their unwearied actions 
and energies, as benign in the spirit that animates them, 
as beautiful and grand in the form and clothing which 
is given to them for the delight of our senses."' 

All parks and even the smallest ornamental ground 
should indicate at once the presence of a controlling 
scheme of design. It is not a question of size; there 
should be everywhere, no matter what the size, entire 
artistic unity. 

A. J. Downing, in his work on landscape gardening, 
says: 

"Unity or the production of the whole is a leading 
principle of the highest importance in every art of 
taste or design, without which no satisfactory result 
can be realized. This arises from the fact that the 
mind can only attend with pleasure and satisfaction 
to one object or one composite sensation at the same 
time. If two distinct objects or classes of objects 
present themselves at once to us, we can only attend 
satisfactorily to one, by withdrawing our atten- 
tion for the time from the other. Hence, the neces- 
sity of a reference to this leading principle of unity." 
Thomas Whately, in Observations on Modern Garden- 
ing, writes: 

' William Wordsworth, letter to Sir G. Beaumont, 1805. 



42 Xan^scape Brcbitecture 

"In landscape gardening violations of unity are 
often to be met with, and they are always indicative 
of the absence of correct taste in art. Looking upon 
a landscape from the windows of a villa residence, 
we sometimes see a considerable portion of the view 
embraced by the eye laid out in natural groups of 
trees and shrubs, and upon one side, or, perhaps, in 
the middle of the same scene, a formal avenue lead- 
ing directly up to the house. Such a view can never 
appear a satisfactory whole, because we experience a 
confusion of sensations in contemplating it. There 
is an evident incongruity in bringing two modes of 
arranging plantations, so totally different, under the 
eye at one moment, which distracts, rather than 
pleases the mind. In this example, the avenue, 
taken by itself, may be a beautiful object, and the 
groups and connected masses may, in themselves, 
be elegant, yet if the two portions are seen together, 
they will not form a whole, because they cannot 
make a composite idea. For the same reason, there 
is something unpleasing in the introduction of fruit 
trees among elegant ornamental trees on a lawn, or 
even in assembling together, in the same beds, flower- 
ing plants, and culinary vegetables — one class of 
vegetation suggesting the useful, and homely, alone 
to the mind, and the other, avowedly, only the 
ornamental. 

' ' In the arrangement of a large extent of surface, 
where a great many objects are necessarily presented 
to the eye at once, the principle of unity will suggest 



Ube Xa^fng ©ut of a parft or Estate 43 

that there should be some grand or leading features 
to which the others should be merely subordinate. 
Thus, in grouping trees, there should be some large 
and striking masses to which the others appear to 
belong, however distant, instead of scattered groups, 
all of the same size. Even in arranging walks, a 
whole will more readily be recognized, if there are 
one or two, of large size, with which the others appear 
connected as branches, than if all are equal in breadth, 
and present the same appearance to the eye in 
passing," 

The difficulty with many landscape designs, whether 
the result of caprice, or of too strict adherence to the 
canons of a school, is that the plan selected is not 
really intelligent. 

In the words of an acute and able writer, Harald 
Hoff ding ; 

"Gradually man learns to substitute methods for 
systems and to ask how and how much in place of 
why. Instead of constructing the world according 
to the caprice of his imagination, he learns to discern 
the interconnection which actually obtains from it, 
and when in this way he gradually arrives at finding 
one great unity running through all things his ima- 
gination will regain in a more secure form all that 
it has lost when its daring pictures were crowded 
out by critical investigations." 

It becomes a question, once the general plan is made, 



44 Xanbscape Hrcbftecture 

of establishing unity of details, of eliminating obtrusive, 
discordant, or redundant elements, of changing existing 
conditions by planting, grading, and otherwise estab- 
lishing harmonious relations between the old parts 
and new parts of the place, for it is quite as important 
to carefully retain the valuable old part as to add new 
effects however charming. There is a superior quality 
peculiar to an old tree or the old and natural swell of 
the ground that should have the most careful atten- 
tion, often to the extent of leaving it entirely alone and 
doing new work elsewhere where there is less to harm. 
It is one of the most difficult problems of landscape 
gardening to manage this combination of the old with 
the new in accordance with a good general plan so that 
you can feel yourself in the presence of genuine nature. 
The result we should seek to avoid is a gathering together 
in woodland masses trees and shrubs incongruous with 
their surroundings and therefore unnatural in appearance, 
and altogether unfitted to the general artistic scheme. 
To lay out a park or garden properly it should be 
studied on the ground and the peculiarities of the place 
carefully estimated and recorded so as to give due re- 
gard to comfort and convenience as well as artistic 
possibilities. The idiosyncrasies and even the less 
peculiar likings of the owner should also be considered 
and constant effort put forth to make a home that is a 
realization of his taste and requirements. 

"How is it possible that any persons can make a 
good design for any garden whose situation they 



Ubc %^vinQ ®ut of a pari? or Bstate 45 

never saw. To draw a beautiful regular draught is 
not to the purpose, for although it makes a hand- 
some figure on the paper, yet it has quite a different 
effect when executed on the ground."^ 

There should be also full realization of the fact that 
the work of laying out a park or estate, large or small, 
should always be considered more or less experimental. 
Plans of ornamental grounds have much less value 
than plans of architectural structures because changes 
are more likely to be necessary with live trees and 
shrubs than with wood and iron and stone. No land- 
scape work is likely to be well done unless it has been 
changed from time to time. The study of the place 
should be continuous and kept up long after the initial 
work is finished. Sometimes a radical mistake is dis- 
covered when the landscape gardening is well advanced, 
but none the less should the mistake be remedied at 
the time, because the remedy is often difficult and 
expensive to apply and therefore likely to be left 
unapplied in after years. 

"The building of a place should be begun and 
carried out with consistency throughout ; it is there- 
fore necessary to have it thoroughly thought out 
from the first, and guided along all the way through 
by one controlling mind, a mind that should make 
use of the thoughts of many others, welding them 
into an organic whole so that the stamp of indi- 

' Battey Langley. 



46 Xan^scape Brcbitecture 

viduality and unity be never lost. But let me not 
be misunderstood; a general plan should govern the 
whole, there must be no room for random work; 
in every detail the guiding creating brain must be 
recognized, and it is essential that the scheme should 
originate from the special circumstances of the artist, 
from the experience and conditions of his life or the 
former history of his family, limited by the locality 
with which he has to deal; but I do not counsel that 
the whole exact plan should be worked out in detail 
at first and doggedly maintained to the end. I would, 
to a large extent, recommend just the opposite, for 
even if the main scheme comprehends many features 
which may be considered from the start, in working 
it out the artist must continually follow the inspira- 
tion of his imagination. From time to time, the 
painter will alter his picture (which, after all, is 
much less complicated than the picture the landscape 
gardener has to create), here and there making a 
part more true to the general effect or to natiu"e, here 
improving a tone, there giving more accent, more 
power to a line. Why should the landscape gar- 
dener who works in such refractory, changeable, 
and often impossible-to-estimate material, and who, 
moreover, has to unite many different pictures in 
one, succeed in hitting the mark at the first attempt 
infallibly? Much will be discovered as he goes on 
studying, observing, both within and without the 
confines of the place, the light effects on his raw 
material (for light is one of his chief assets), estab- 



Ube Xapinc) ®ut of a parF? or lEstate 47 

lishing cause and effect, and thereby finding new ways 
of working out in detail his early motives, or giving 
them up altogether if other notions for the treatment 
of parts strike him as being better. 

To see, remaining undisturbed, some particular 
feature which has proved a failure, is pitiable. The 
reason the blemish is left is because it has cost so 
much time, so much money, and because a change 
would add to the expense, costing as much again or 
even more. Constant discipline is indispensable in 
the proper exercise of any art, and when means are 
not sufficient to treat every part of a park as it should 
be treated, what money there is had better be devoted 
towards the improvement of the old established 
features than to the making of new ones. The 
postponing of alterations which are recognized as 
advisable is a dangerous proceeding, also, because 
existing faults easily lead to the wrong treatment of 
new features. 

"It has been truly said that 'Artistic production 
is a matter of conscience,' hence a person with an 
artistic conscience cannot remain content with parts 
that have been recognized as not up to the standard, 
or failures. Following the example of nature, which 
starts and completes her humblest work with the 
same assiduous care she bestows upon her most 
sublime creations, one would rather make any 
sacrifice than leave the blemish one has become 
aware of, even if in itself it is but a subordinate 
matter. 



48 Xanbscape Brcbitecture 

"Although in my work at Muskau I never de- 
parted a moment from the main idea which I shall 
have occasion later to describe, yet I confess that 
many portions have not only been retouched, but 
that they have been entirely changed, often once, 
sometimes thrice and four times even. It would 
be a great error to suppose that confusion results 
from repeated alterations undertaken with intelli- 
gence, for sound reasons and not from caprice. 
Rather than that they should be undertaken from 
pure caprice it woiild certainly be best to never have 
alterations for improvement. In general the dictum 
novum prematur in annum holds good. One must 
never rest with correcting and refining until the 
best possible results have been attained; a principle 
never to be relinquished and of which often time 
alone proves to be the great teacher."* 

In addition to the study of the possibilities of the 
place for use and beauty, in order to secure good results, 
it is necessary to equip oneself with the data required. 
A map of the contours or lay of the land is important, 
not perhaps so much for the landscape gardener, who 
must make up his mind by a study of the actual land, 
but for the purpose of giving some idea to the client 
of how his grounds will look and for estimating the 
probable cost of constructing them. It is hardly 
possible however to estimate what the exact cost of 
such work will be. It is so much the result of a due 

' Hints on Landscape Gardening, Prince Puckler. 



XTbe Xa\?fn{j vS)ut of a pari? or Bstate 49 

exercise of taste and artistic skill that its cost cannot 
be foreseen any more than that of a painting. Experi- 
ments can hardly be avoided, and experiments cost 
money. 

The initial trouble met by anyone proposing to lay 
out a place is the difficulty of foreseeing how his ideas 
will look in the future. Experience in the behaviour 
of different soils and plants in different situations and 
a natural genius can alone enable one to form a picture 
in the mind of how a piece of landscape gardening will 
look ten or twenty years hence. One tree will grow 
more rapidly in this place than in that one, and in 
many places unforeseen results will necessarily occur, 
but something of the real nature of these trees should 
be realized beforehand, so as to be able to see the 
picture somewhat in the way it will look years hence. 

"One can see from this how unwise it is to invite 
a strange artist for some days or weeks or even months 
with the view of making a plan in which every road 
and every plantation, the commanding features and 
all the details, are exactly fixed. And worse still 
to send such a person merely a survey of the place 
so that he may proceed at once with a plan, when he 
has no feeling of the character of the region, no 
knowledge of the localities, of the effects of hill and 
dale, of high or low trees in the immediate fore- 
ground or in the distance, for him to draw on sub- 
missive paper his lines, which no doubt may look 
very pretty and good there, but which realized into 



50 Xan^scape Brcbitecture 

facts are bound to achieve at best an inappropri- 
ate and unsatisfactory design. Who so intends to 
build up a landscape must do so out of the actual 
materials from which that particular landscape is to 
be created, and he must be familiar with them in 
every particular. Both in plan and execution he 
works quite otherwise than the painter on his can- 
vas; he deals with realities. The beauty of a bit 
of real nature, which rendered by the art of the 
painter can only be partly hinted at, cannot on a 
plan be given at all; I am inclined to believe, on the 
contrary that except in a very fiat region where no 
views are possible and little can be achieved anyhow, 
a plan which is agreeable to look at with lines pleas- 
ing to the eye cannot truly stand for beauty in nature. 
My experience is that in order to achieve fine results 
in landscape gardening one is often obliged to select 
lines which have no charm on a plan drawn on 
paper." ^ 

In order to approach properly the consideration of 
the laying out of any place it is well to go farther than 
the contour map and secure photographs of features 
that are characteristic of its scenery, and that may be 
memoranda to be used in forming a mental picture of 
what the final scheme should be. This picture will be 
at first vague, but after considerable study of the 
existing landscape, dreaming over it f you choose, 
looking at it from every angle, measuring the contour 

' Hints on Landscape Gardening, Prince Piickler. 



^be Xa^tno ©ut of a parF? or lEstate 51 

map, and comparing photographs, there will gradually 
dawn on the mind some idea of what the whole design 
when completed should look like, how the various parts 
should develop individually and grow into a unified 
whole. This is the vital part of the work, the part 
that involves concentrated thought more than any 
other. It may reveal itself quickly or take a longer 
time and come only after continued study of the place 
itself as well as various models, for such a picture 
should be made to realize a decided and carefully 
thought-out clear conception such as would satisfy 
any one as a real artistic creation, and not a vague 
phantasm or a hodge-podge. 

Yet it should be remembered that, though the art 
faculty exists in some degree in all men, in its creative 
degree it is the privilege of comparatively few. The 
process of creation has been thus described : ' ' Reflection 
and voluntary adaptation intervenes in a moment of 
inspiration, and inspiration supervenes on afterthought 
and remembrance. 'And as I mused the fire kindled.' " 

The order in which a scheme of laying out should 
be studied is: First: The necessary limitations, roads, 
and spaces intended for buildings of different sorts. 
Second: Views to be revealed or kept open by cutting 
out existing woods or arranging planting so as to lead 
the eye to pleasant prospects. Third: The shutting 
out of disagreeable objects by planting trees and shrubs 
and leading roads and paths as far as possible away from 
them, and then a definite picture controlled by these 
limitations. 



52 XanC)scape Brcbitecture 

"The perfection in landscape gardening consists 
in the four following requisites : First it must display 
the natural beauties and hide the natural defects of 
every situation. Secondly : it should give the appear- 
ance of extent and freedom, by carefully disguising 
or hiding the boundary. Thirdly : it must studiously 
conceal every interference of art, however expensive, 
by which the scenery is improved, making the whole 
appear the production of nature only; and fourthly, 
all objects of mere convenience or comfort, if in- 
capable of being made ornamental, or of becoming 
proper parts of the general scenery, must be removed 
or concealed." ^ 

Another principle that needs emphasis in laying out 
places is the general plan of bordering plantations 
around the entire boundaries with walks and roads 
running in and out through the trees and shrubbery, 
leaving great open spaces of greensward with only 
here and there an isolated tree or small group of shrubs 
set near the main mass. The value of these open 
spaces of greensward from a strictly artistic standpoint 
cannot be overestimated. It is a helpful idea to recog- 
nize that the lawns of a place have frequently a shore 
line, as it were, like that of most lakes, with promon- 
tories and bays, thus making the grass space really 
the eye of the landscape. Catullus says in addressing 
his own lake in the country: 

■ Humphry Rep ton, The Art of Landscape Gardening.. 



Zbc Xa^tng ®ut ot a parft or lEstate 53 

"Dear Sirio that art the very eye of islands and 
peninsulas that lie deeply embossed in calm inland 
lakes!" 

The example I have in mind, a painting of Menand, 
shows how a picture of a lake of this kind among wooded 
hills should be constructed. The artist evidently knew 
and loved his type. Moreover, this picture forms an 
excellent example of how the presence of water of a 
certain sort may make with most charming effect the 
very eye of the landscape. 

Writers on landscape gardening in the eighteenth 
century dwell much on the value of the sensations 
produced by various kinds of landscape gardening. 

"Gardening besides the emotions of beauty by 
means of regularity, order, proportion, colour, and 
utility, can raise emotions of grandeur, of sweetness, 
of gaiety, melancholy, wildness, and even of surprise 
or wonder. In gardening as well as in architecture, 
simplicity ought to be the governing taste. Profuse 
ornament hath no better effect than to confuse the 
eye and to prevent the object from making an im- 
pression as one entire whole. A third idea of a 
garden approaching perfection is of objects assem- 
bled together in order to produce not only an emotion 
of beauty essential to gardens of every kind, but also 
some other particular emotion, grandeur, for example, 
gaiety, or any other of those above mentioned."* 

' Henry Home, Lord Kames. 



54 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

This idea has its value doubtless, but it can be easily- 
overworked. Truly, a special scene may suggest such 
feelings in the beginning, and help from the landscape, 
gardener may readily increase their strength, and it 
should be the aim of the designer or artist to recognize 
this quality of a place, and to encourage in various ways 
the feelings it naturally produces. But such a note 
cannot be forced and may even come to make the effect 
absurd. Imagination may add much to the pleasure of 
a piece of landscape gardening, but too much in a 
more or less vague way may easily be attempted, pro- 
ducing unsatisfactory results. 

The condition of the mind at the time of experi- 
encing the effects of the scene counts largely, and the 
effect produced by the environment is not always simple 
melancholy, gaiety, or awe. It has a larger compass 
and may take the form indicated by the following 
beautiful quotation from Maine de Biran: 

"I have experienced this evening in a solitary 
walk taken during the finest weather, some instan- 
taneous flashes of that ineffable enjoyment, which I 
have tasted at other times and at such a season of 
that pure pleasure that seems to snatch us away 
from all that is of earth, to give us a foretaste 
of heaven. The verdure had a new freshness and 
took beauty from the last ray of the sinking sun, 
all things were instinct with a soft splendour, the 
trees waved tenderly their majestic crests, the air 
was full of balm, and the nightingales inter- 



UF3e XainuG ^S^ut of a iparh or Estate 55 

changed sighs of love, which yielded to accents 
of pleasure and joy. 

"I walked gently in an alley of young plane trees 
which I planted a few years since. Above all the 
vague incomplete impressions and images which were 
born of the presence of the objects and my moods, 
hovered this feeling of the infinite which bears us 
onward sometimes towards a world superior to phe- 
nomena, towards this world of realities which links 
itself to God, as the first and only reality. It 
seems in this condition when all sensations with- 
out and within are calm and happy, as if there 
were a peculiar sense appropriate to heavenly things, 
which, wrapped up in the actual fashion of our 
existence, is destined perhaps to develop itself one 
day when the soul shall have quitted its mortal 
husk." 

It was men of a similar type, in this respect, to Maine 
de Biran who earlier, back in the seventeenth century, 
felt the impulse of a rising desire for free landscape 
gardening, and developed an instinct for the enjoyment 
in nature of something higher than melancholy or 
terror or gaiety or what is understood ordinarily as 
feeling. There were men even in those days who like 
Fenelon, the spiritual ancestor and acknowledged 
master of de Biran, would write in flat Versailles 
what is said to be the first ode of praise of distant 
mountain tops; who like Racine would murmur in 
the alleys of the park : 



56 *ILan&scape Hrcbitecture 

Quand elle est en liberty, 
La Nature est inimitable. 



Fenelon loved a "beau desert" and in his Dialogues 
des Morts appears the following: "La Nature a ici je 
ne sais quoi de brut qui plait et qui fait r^ver agre- 
ablement." Fenelon also says: "On aime d'autant 
plus purement alors qu'on aime sans sentir comme on 
croit avec plus de merite lorsqu'on croit sans voir." 
This state is not essentially different from that intel- 
lectual love of God which Spinoza declares to be beyond 
emotion. 

It may be thought that impressive effects can be 
developed by making combinations of colour of the 
foliage of trees and shrubs. But this leads to disap- 
pointment because all such colours vary from year to 
year according to the atmospheric and soil conditions, 
fertility, heat, cold, etc. Prince Piickler has this to 
say in his Hints on Landscape Gardening: 

"How far one may plant with the deliberate 
intention of attaining artistic light and shade and 
colour contrast, I will not venture to state. The 
matter has great difficulties, and in my experience 
these attempts if I went too far into detail have 
seldom succeeded very well, and on the other hand, 
plantations mixed quite recklessly often unfolded 
the most unexpected charms; nay, they earned me 
many compliments for my art wherein I was as 
innocent as many a physician who has effected a 



TLbc Xa^ing ®ut of a park or JEstate 57 

great cure without knowing how. I do not lay much 
stress on any instructions in this matter as I have 
always taken an easy middle course. It must also be 
remembered that the foliage of trees will often assume 
an entirely different and unexpected shade when 
transplanted to a different soil and this cannot 
always be regulated in a large plot. It may happen 
that a dark coloured maple intended for shading 
grows a very light foliage. It is quite obvious, 
however, that one should avoid too variegated a 
mixture of leaves, too frequent alternations of dark 
and light green foliage, but here also where it would 
be hard to lay down good, sharp rules in detail, the 
taste of the owner must be the best guide. 

Colour effects of a reasonably exact and foreseen 
character can be obtained during the summer with 
bedding plants such as coleuses and geraniums. 

Finally it is important for the designer of landscape 
work to keep his mind free from fads, and from the 
tendency to place undue weight on some special part of 
the place, for the garden is just as important as the 
shrubbery, trees, and grass spaces, and equal in value 
in their own ways are the roads and paths, and walls 
and water pools, or lakes or streams. 

"Everything has its own perfection, be it higher 
or lower in the scale of things, and the perfection of 
one is not the perfection of another. Things ani- 
mate, inanimate, visible or invisible, all are good in 



58 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

■A 

their kind, and have a best of themselves, which is 
an object of pursuit. Why do you take such pains 
with your garden or your park? You see to your- 
walks, and turf, and shrubberies, to your trees and 
drives, not as if you meant to make an orchard of 
one, or corn or pasture land of the other, but because 
there is a special beauty in all that is goodly in wood, 
water, plain, and slope, brought all together by art 
into one shape, and grouped into one whole." ^ 

Another important illustration of laying out parks 
and estates is the world-famed Windsor Castle. The 
broad plateau on which it stands dominates the entire 
surrounding country and yet it rests easily, and its 
great size preserves its dignity in the midst of noble 
scenery extended in all directions. Prince Puckler 
von Muskau visited England about 1826, and preserved 
the records of his visit in letters to his wife, from 
which the following extracts are made: 

"The grandeur and magnificence of the castle 
are truly worthy of the King of England. Situated 
on a hill above the town, while it presents a noble 
object from every side, its position gives it an immense 
advantage. Its historic interest, its high antiquity, 
and its astonishing vastness and extent unite to 
render it single in the world. ... As to your opin- 
ion about parks I must remark that the extent of 
them, especially when properly rounded, can never 

' John Henry Newman. 




Mount Vernon, the Home of George Washington. 

Reproduced by Permission of Doubleday, Page & Co. 
From a Photograph by Arthur G. Eldredge. 




Bosca, or Grove, on a Place near Elmsford, N. Y. 
Photograph by William J. Wilson. 



"Cbe Xa^ing ®ut of a par?? or ^Estate 59 

be great enough. Windsor park is the only one 
which has fully satisfied me as a whole and the reason 
for that is its enormous size. It realizes all I would 
have : — a pleasant tract of country within the bounds 
of which you can live and do what yoii like without 
privation or constraint; hunt, fish, ride, drive with- 
out ever feeling cramped; in which you never see a 
point except just at the entrance gates, at which 
you remark. Here is the boundary; and to which 
all the beauties of the surrounding country to the 
remotest distance have been rendered tributary by 
a cultivated taste. In other respects you are right; 
one must not throw away good and bad together; 
and it is better to conceal many defects and limita- 
tions of the ground by skilfully planned paths and 
plantations, than to make disproportionate sacrifices 
to them." 

Almost next in importance to Windsor Castle, al- 
though not to be mentioned in connexion with it for 
size and magnificence, is Mt. Vernon, the home of 
George Washington. Its fame is world-wide, but its 
value as an example of how to lay out an estate has 
received little attention. It is really an excellent model 
for landscape gardeners. Here will be found qualities 
such as simplicity, breadth, good proportion in the 
various features, and the dignity which all such places 
should possess. On one side of the house, a broad 
lawn slopes down to the banks of the Potomac with 
not a tree or shrub to disturb the surface. On the 



6o Xanbscapc Hrcbftecture 

borders of the lawn large shade trees frame the pic- 
ture. Approaching from the other and less interesting 
side you are led to the house by well-balanced winding 
drives which are screened by trees and shrubs. Back 
of the trees and shrubs are large vegetable and flower 
gardens, very properly shut out from view. It is a 
good example of what an estate of a cultivated country 
gentleman should be, and is a place which reflects a 
character which any man, though ever so rich, should 
wish to have presented to the world as his own. 

Germany, the home of landscaping in its fully de- 
veloped form, presents the estate of Prince Piickler 
and the Park of Babelsberg near Potsdam, as well as 
other parks in the empire, as good examples of the art 
and its proper practice. The illustration of the park 
at Muskau affords a view of a size and extent that is a 
fine example of the best landscape gardening, and the 
plans of the front lawn of the castle as it originally 
appeared before Prince Piickler's alterations are, as 
it now appears, illuminating as to the possibilities of 
skilful rearrangement. 

But while we dwell with admiration on the great land- 
scape architecture of the world at Windsor Park, Eng- 
land, and Central Park, New York, we should not forget 
the small places, the nooks and corners where the houses 
stand on a quarter of an acre, one acre, or five or ten 
acres. There are myriads of such places which need 
study of an intelligent sort, where the grounds have 
laid themselves out in accidental fashion, and where 
any ideas of design are difficult to discover. It should 




The Lawn in Front of the Castle in the Park of Muskau as Originally Laid Out. 

Taken from Old Print. 




^J^M^: 




mim»^- 







rhe Same Lawn in Front of the Castle, in the Park of Muskau, as redesigned b\' 

Prince Piickler. 
Redrawn from an Old Print. 



XTbe Xa^ing ®ut of a parF? or lEstate 6i 

always be remembered that nearly every idea concern- 
ing the composition of landscape put forth in this book 
applies equally to a small as to a large place, in one 
country as in another, even in one age as well as another, 
and in all future chapters it will be found that this 
recognition of the universality of fundamental ideas 
will continue to be emphasized. However, as example 
is always more impressive than precept, it may be well 
to give two or three sketches to explain and to illustrate 
this comprehensive idea. In this way, the subject may 
be made clearer. 

Newburgh is a considerable town on the Hudson 
about sixty miles from New York. It is an old town 
and has had for a hundred years a reputation for the 
beauty of its homes standing in full view of some of the 
finest scenes of the Hudson. The father of landscape 
gardening in America, A. J. Downing, lived seventy 
years ago at Newburgh, where his home still exists. 
To his influence may be attributed some of the land- 
scape-gardening excellence visible in different parts of 
the city and in its immediate neighbourhood. While 
it is hardly at the present time what one would call a 
smart place where the estates are like those on some 
parts of Long Island, or at Newport, or in the regions 
where fashion draws the very rich, Newburgh is a 
dignified and fine place. The art shown in its estates 
would be recognized anywhere as that of people who 
knew how to appreciate and care for fine specimens of 
old shade trees, pools of water, and vistas across the 
lawns and through the foliage. It is not surprising 



62 Xanbscape Hrcbitecturc 

therefore that one is able to discover in such a region 
small places that fulfil the requirements of a high type 
of landscape art. 

Mr. John Staples a few years ago bought an estate 
in Newburgh where he had lived as a boy. It is strange 
how people, when they come to prosper a litt'e, instinc- 
tively seek abiding places in the region where they 
lived when they were children, or even in the houses 
where they were born. Mr. Staples found on the place 
at Newburgh, which he bought, everything that should 
dignify an estate and render it worthy of admiration, 
undulating lawns, fine shade trees, and a house beauti- 
fully draped with vines. The estate is not pretentious; 
it is simply fine in a h'ghly satisfactory way. 

But Mr. Staples loves the woods and everything 
connected with the woods, and consequently sought 
the wooded territory that formed a considerable part 
of his domain. He liked to wander through this little 
wilderness and watch all sorts of wild effects and ani- 
mated things, and to study what he could do with 
them. A born woodsman, there were few objects of 
interest his eyes missed. It was delightful to be out 
in the woods and contrive things. Mr. Staples, though 
a man of few words, liked to say that a man, a dog, and 
a brook belonged together. So year by year, he played 
with his brook which was at first hidden in a ravine 
where spring freshets destroyed it. First he tapped 
it and used its water, and made a pool; then, after 
preparing a small lawn for it with shrubs and trees 
where lately a rubbish heap existed, he led it along 



Ube Xai^iuG ®ut of a iparl? or JEstate 63 

the hillside bordering the open space, and finally think- 
ing the brook did not look altogether happy, he brought 
it over alongside the wood road and took it by a cir- 
cuitous route to the waterfall and so down into the 
pool. He also built a bungalow, or a tea house, or a 
picnic house, whichever you may choose to call it, 
which had in its simple rustic way the comforts of a 
home. This bungalow stands on the banks of the 
brook just above the falls on the edge of a charming 
spot where several trees appear in a group, and a small 
footbridge spans the stream and leads to the building. 
The scene is entirely American ; just such a scene would 
hardly appear anywhere but on the Hudson. There 
is nothing whatever alien about it. The picture has 
been composed by Mr. Staples for the purpose of mak- 
ing what may be termed a little home in the woods to 
be occupied a longer or shorter time as his fancy may 
lead him. The curious part of the design of the pic- 
ture is that somehow it is Japanese in effect. It may 
be said that the Japanese lantern and little arched 
wooden bridge have a distinctly Japanese quality, 
but that alone would not account for the suggestion 
of Japanese scenery. You might set these accessories 
in a landscape on other lawns and they would not 
create a Japanese effect. The fact is that Mr. Staples, 
whether consciously or not, has worked out his little 
picture on right artistic and natural lines, that would 
make good art in the landscape gardening of any part 
of the world. The Japanese, true artists as they are, 
work out their landscape schemes on entirely natural 



64 Xant)scape Hrcbitecture 

lines, although we, who as a rule fail to understand 
their peculiar highly symbolized garden theories, and 
know little of the scenery of Japan, may not at first 
see it. Here is a proof of the truth of what has been 
said, a proof that is based on fact. A Japanese artist 
of high standing in his own country visits an artist in 
America who has been his guest in Japan. Together 
they go to Central Park, New York, and the Japanese 
looks around and remarks, "How like this is to scenes 
in Japan." This seems at first thought a little absurd, 
as gardens in Japan are so different from those of 
other countries. 

The idea, however, to be enforced is that landscape 
gardening in any country will, if it is good art, be in- 
spired by certain fundamental ideas, which whether 
they have an American air, or a Japanese air, are 
recognized by all nations as having a universal or 
world-wide kinship. Curious is it not? But notice 
how the Japanese butler who made the photograph of 
Mr. Staples's little home in the woods has recognized 
and caught this Japanese spirit, and limited his picture 
to the exact scope that would make it Japanese, and 
yet distinctively American. Note how American the 
grove of trees is, and how happily, from the American 
standpoint, the building is located, and yet very likely 
the Japanese thought of home when he took the photo- 
graph. The perspective of the picture is excellent 
and you wonder what is beyond, which always adds 
charm to a landscape. There is a universal quality 
pertaining to such landscape work that any man, if 



XTbe Xaping ®ut of a pari? or Estate 65 

he expresses his real feeHngs, prefers to distinctively 
English, French, or Italian gardening. The mistake 
should not be made of thinking Mr. Staples is not well 
informed in the art of making landscape scenery, and 
that he does things in any haphazard fashion. He is 
really highly informed in the secrets of his art. An 
intelligent eye must realize that he knows how to 
manage the scenery along the shores and banks of the 
brook, knows how and where to set his trees and shrubs 
and flowers, where to make his pools, and where to 
locate a building and give it a proper background. It 
takes study and a special gift to do such work. Mr. 
Staples, doubtless, would say that he did not claim to 
be a landscape gardener or a horticulturist, but never- 
theless he knows good landscape art when he sees it, 
and he has seen it, you may depend upon it. There 
can be no question that his skill has been "aided and 
disciplined by frequent reference to and companion- 
ship with finely suggestive artistic precedents and 
examples."^ It is interesting to note how entirely 
sympathetic two artists may be, and how they may 
work with entirely different motives, and yet the skill 
of both show equal evidences of frequent "references 
to and companionship with finely suggestive artistic 
precedents and examples," This is shown by the 
illustration where Mr. Beale, a distinguished artist, 
and an intimate and most appreciative friend of Mr. 
Staples, has made a formal garden on just as good lines 
of its kind as those of the little woodside cottage just 

' Gino C. Speranza. 
5 



66 Xanbscape Brcbitccture 

described. Mr. Beale has travelled and seen the best 
examples of landscape art in different countries. Yet, 
on his quaint old country place on the Hudson, with its 
great shadowing trees, small lakes, and open lawns and 
fine distant vistas, he has seen that the conventional 
Italian garden would look entirely out of place. Con- 
sequently what does he do? He simply attaches to the 
verandah a platform of gravel and a balustrade and 
steps where the same character of architecture is used. 
Thus his garden becomes actually a part of the house. 
The architecture of the house is simple and plain, but 
excellently suited to the grounds ; and in the same spirit 
Mr. Beale has kept his flowers on a low key of colour 
and made all the main part of the garden a broad carpet 
of greensward with a fountain in the centre. Along 
the walk that outlines the greensward and borders the 
walls are massed the flowers. The rough stone walls 
are completely covered with vines and the background 
of trees and house and a considerable lawn space 
visible beyond, completes the picture. It is, moreover, 
a sunken garden because the shape of the ground in 
the original valley suggested it. If the ground had 
been on a level with the house, a sunken garden would 
have been entirely out of place. The point that needs 
making emphatic is the simple, broad design with its 
fitness to the house and characteristic quality of the place. 
How strange and interesting it is to note the kinship 
and universality of certain ideas of landscape art latent, 
not only in the present but in the past, as expressed 
by written documents and examples of various kinds. 



Zbc Xaping ©ut of a pari? or Bstate 67 

In Newburgh a garden is made by a distinguished 
artist which fits the house and the landscape, and yet 
sends the roots of its art down into the past through 
ItaHan, Roman, Greek, and Persian until it reaches the 
garden of Eden itself. In another place in Newburgh 
one finds a bit of woodland scenery which is so managed 
as to suggest a Japanese garden and at the same 
time an American home, and which is also in a way 
akin to the Chinese garden, parent of the Japanese 
type. 

Furthermore, one remembers Marco Polo, who on his 
return from a twenty-four years' sojourn in Northern 
China (Cathay) gave his friend Rusticien de Pise his 
notes and much oral information, thus enabling him to 
write an account of his travels. An English chronicler, 
Purchas, wrote some account of Marco Polo's travels, 
taken doubtless from this book, and one day Coleridge, 
the poet, fell asleep after reading as follows: "Here the 
Khan Kubla commanded a palace to be built and stately 
gardens thereto, and thus ten miles of fertile ground 
were enclosed with a wall." During his nap Coleridge 
had a dream and on awakening wrote down these 
lines : 



In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 

A stately pleasure dome decree 

Where Alph the sacred river ran 

Through caverns measureless to man 

Down to a sunless sea, 

So twice five miles of fertile ground 

With walls and towers were girded round' 



68 aLant)scape Hrcbitecture 

And here were gardens bright and sinuous rills 
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree, 
And here were forests ancient as the hills 
Unfolding sunny spots of greenery. 

Evidently the poet, under the untrammelled inspira- 
tion of his imagination, dreamed something much 
nearer the best type of gardens and lawns than the 
lines of the old chronicler would indicate. This is 
easy to understand: Coleridge was an Englishman of 
the nineteenth century, and was doubtless more or less 
familiar with the modern schools of landscape garden- 
ing. The strangest part is that it seems that Oderic 
of Pordenone, a Venetian and a Franciscan friar, went 
to Cathay in the fourteenth century, many years after 
Marco Polo, and in his account of his travels verified 
the truth of the narrative about the fountains and 
gardens of the Xanadu of Marco Polo, and also related 
how the Chinese architects built these wonders of the 
age in accordance with instructions of the Great Khan 
Kabula, who had dreamed a p'cture of how they should 
be designed. Doubtless his dream was based on a 
knowledge of the landscape gardening of his day, just 
as Coleridge was unconsciously influenced by his re- 
collections of the parks of England, This comparative 
identity of ideas becomes more evident when we read 
in Marco Polo's narrative how the Khan built in one 
part of his park a mount, a hundred paces across the 
top and a mile in circuit at the base. This hill he had 
covered with large evergreen trees moved from a dis- 
tance with the assistance of elephants, hence the name 



XTbe Xa^lno ©ut.ot a par ft or JEstate 69 

Green Mount. The earth required to make this mount, 
when excavated, left a place for a small lake which 
was supplied by a running stream. Thus we have all 
the necessary elements of a landscape picture such as 
we find not only to-day, but also in the pictures of the 
gardens around Pekin made long before the Christian 
era. Travellers state that this artificial hill can be 
seen to-day bearing the original name King-Khan, 
meaning Green Mountain. 

These studies of two or three places at Newburgh 
lead to the further consideration of the value of sim- 
plicity and characteristic art in developing homes. The 
ambition to make a showy place that indicates the 
possession of wealth, and the ability to have what most 
people cannot hope to obtain, or by going to great 
expense to secure some feature in its highest develop- 
ment because it has come to be the fashion, may not 
always be desirable. In visiting the show places in 
America, England, and on the continent, much as one 
may be impressed, the feeling that finally gains the 
upper hand is often not unlike that of Sydney Smith 
in the following quotation: 

"I went for the first time in my life some years 
ago to stay at a very grand and beautiful place in 
the country where the grounds are laid out with 
consummate taste. For the first three or four days 
I was perfectly enchanted; it seemed something so 
much better than nature that I really began to wish 
the earth had been laid out according to the latest 



70 aLan&scape Hrcbitecture 

principles of improvement and the whole face of 
nature were a little more the appearance of a park. 
In three days' time I was tired to death; a thistle, 
a nettle, a heap of dead bushes, anything that wore 
the appearance of accident and want of intention, 
was quite a relief. I used to escape from the made 
grounds and walk upon an adjacent goose common 
where the cart ruts, gravel pits, bumps, irregulari- 
tieSj coarse ungentlemanlike grass, and all the vari- 
eties produced by neglect, were a thousand times 
more gratifying than the monotony of beauties the 
result of design and crowding with a luxuriance and 
abundance utterly unknown to nature." 

Although there is no question that many grand 
estates have their place and serve a good purpose, yet 
the best taste will often suggest something quite differ- 
ent, as may be seen in Central Park, New York, and 
the great park at Muskau, Germany. As much beauty 
and display as belong to an intelligently designed park 
is of course admissible, but it does not therefore neces- 
sarily place it in the highest rank of artistic endeavour. 
In these days of rapid accumulation of great wealth 
the tendency is to develop wonderful plant effects 
rather than beautiful, finely modulated landscape 
studies. Nor can it be said that landscape gardening 
designs are generally nowadays inferior to those of 
fifty or a hundred years ago such as the creations made 
by the designers of Central Park, New York, and Park 
Muskau, and certain English estates; but the display 



ITbe Xa^tng ©ut of a pari? or lEstate 71 

of wealth on the modern estate has seemingly drawn 
much of our attention from the better work like that 
of the instances just cited. There has been, however, 
a gradual evolution of the best ideas of landscape 
gardening, — and the work of fifty years ago is better 
in some places than it was fifty years before that time; 
and some of our work is still better to-day than ever. 
While it may be true, as Leibnitz says, that nature 
never makes leaps, it must nevertheless be conceded 
that at the present time, when we are more highly in- 
structed than ever before, we do not seem to be able to 
advance as rapidly and as persistently as we should, and 
have not yet attained to the high standards which have 
been so commonly professed. Perhaps we are too aca- 
demic, too bound down by precedent, not always of the 
best and simplest sort. Our work of this kind is not al- 
ways worthy of our traditions. It may be indeed a period 
of slack water, but it is nevertheless sure that there is 
good work being done, the value of which will be evi- 
dent as time goes on. "To an even greater extent, the 
present assimilates the past, and can no longer remain 
subject to the changing wishes and caprices of to-day; 
the past is taking on a new meaning for us and we are 
finding that amid all that was peculiar to their own 
age, there was some element in them that transcended 
time and could be transmitted to all times." Surely 
we could not so link the landscape gardening of to-day 
with that of former ages, if there were not " the same 
eternal order operating there and here, an order in 
which all that is deepest in human nature has its root." 



72 Xan5scape Hrcbitecture 

The trouble is, that the designers of our country places 
are oppressed, perhaps unconsciously, at the present day 
by a false kind of erudition and their work too often 
lacks personality. "All art speedily declines so soon as 
it ceases to be continuously re-created, so the present 
must in the last resort shape its own life. Its relation 
to the past is not something fixed and given; it has 
always to be ascertained anew. The present will always 
mould its conception and judgment of the nature of 
the past by its own conviction of the value of the work 
it is doing." Thus speaking from the point of view of 
a landscape architect, the past is by no means a finished 
story. It is always open to the present to discover, 
to stir up something new in it. "Even the past is still 
in the making." 

In order to realize what has been given to the land- 
scape architecture of the present day to enable it to 
reach a higher plane of development than ever before, 
let us survey the present condition of the art. We will 
find that we have a broader basis for its practice, more 
vigour of movement, an exhaustless profusion of con- 
structions and examples for our consideration ; in ad- 
dition we are securing a clearer insight and a more 
balanced judgment; finally we are gaining an incen- 
tive to follow up for ourselves the clue that has been 
transmitted to us, a call to co-operate actively in the 
great undertaking of creating landscape-gardening work 
of high character. 

Nobody can deny that in the modem renaissance 
of landscape gardening and its evolution and adapta- 



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Ube Xa^ing ®ut of a parf? or JiEstate 73 

tlon to new conditions of life, there has come a growing 
and hopeful tendency towards individual development, 
to the bestowal of a definite personality to work of 
this character. By the small owner as well as the 
prosperous man of affairs, or of elegant leisure, there 
is an increasing effort to carry out his own ideas on his 
own place. The emphasis of personality has come in 
spite of all to be a deep note of the landscape gardening 
of the present day. Whatever we have of it is a hope- 
ful sign, although it also has its drawbacks. 

So wide has been the interest in horticulture, so great 
has been the development of trees and shrubs and flow- 
ers, that the value of the basic ideas that should always 
be kept in view in the practice of the art has been 
partially left in abeyance or lost sight of. Some sacri- 
fice doubtless is needed. Those who are interested in 
landscape must forgo somewhat of their regard for 
extraordinary floral and arboreal effects, and return to 
the study of the ideas that lie at the foundation of the 
art. "No one can advance without surrender, no one 
can gain without losses, no one can reach great goals 
without giving up many things in themselves desirable." 
An extraordinary horticultural effect may be in itself 
desirable, yet it may be positively unsuited to the 
landscape scheme adopted. There is a rivalry of the 
horticultural and the strictly landscape gardening 
effects which no one making an estate can escape, for 
in order to achieve success in one typical line another 
possible line may have to be sacrificed. Moreover, 
the landscape architect has to employ his weapons on 



74 XanDscape Brcbitecture 

the side of truth and nature, and these very weapons, 
sharpened by intelHgence and experience, have to be 
continually rediscovered and refashioned to fit the 
facts and ideas the present stage of the development 
of the art has found and verified. Not only is there 
less pure imitation but there is a better realization of 
the truth of the words of Nicholas de Cusa written 
more than four hundred years ago : ' ' There is nothing 
in the universe that does not enjoy a certain singularity 
which is to be found in no other thing." But there is 
more to be done than to impress one's own personality 
on a place. That alone will not suffice. "The more 
experience advances the more there is of adaptation 
of environment as well as adaptation to environment." 
An estate should have due attention paid to the reten- 
tion as far as possible of any essential charm it may 
possess, but the owner should, at the same time, feel 
entire liberty to impress his or her personality on the 
place to any degree that will not destroy that supreme 
quality, "the genius of the place." A natural scene 
may be beautiful in itself, without change, but change, 
if it be personal and human in its origin, increases the 
charm of the place for most people, tenfold. What 
would Wordsworth's descriptions of nature be without 
the human note? 

The following reference to an actual place in the 
country will perhaps give a better illustration of what 
I mean. A little cottage in the hills, it is about five 
miles back of the Hudson and ten or twelve miles from 
the northern border of New York City. It occupies 







ffi 2 



Zbc %a^i\\Q ®ut of a park or ^Estate 75 

only a nook of three quarters of an acre, high enough 
to dominate a fine view to the north, and entirely 
secluded on a steep narrow back road embowered with 
many trees. The region is an inhabited one, but except 
for a house here and there, it might be in the Adiron- 
dacks. There are hundreds of similar places within 
fifty miles of New York City, only most people do not 
look for them. The dwelling itself is a small farmhouse 
of a quaint, yet familiar, and commonplace character. 
The purchaser of the place really left the house almost 
alone. A simple wing and a stoop were added, also 
closets, cupboards, and some changes of partitions. 
The exterior was little changed, except for a coat of 
paint. Even plumbing was left out, and yet the owner 
and her friends and relatives often spend considerable 
periods of time in this little nook. The place has a 
wonderful charm for its owner, who has lived much 
abroad, especially in Italy. Her respect, however, for 
the thoroughly American quality of the place, its sim- 
plicity and quaint natural beauty is great, and no 
foreign fashion is allowed to mar its inherent, native 
charm; just a plain old-fashioned house near the road, 
of no special style at all, not even Colonial. On the 
steep sidehill from where the house stands a narrow 
path wanders about in somewhat uncertain fashion, 
just to suit itself and the flower garden of roses and 
old-fashioned perennials with some of the herbs in a 
bed by themselves that one sees so often in Italy. 
The path winds down to a deep hollow where a cool 
spring reposes in the shadow of many trees. Passing 



76 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

through this woods the path leads to a small knoll 
crowned by a little group of forest trees, oaks, and sas- 
safras. This is called the Bosca of the place where in 
Italian fashion the family gather to meals in pleasant 
weather. The homely vegetables and on the house the 
Virginia creepers and grape vines keep the spirit of the 
place unfalteringly American. No Italian gardens and 
pergolas mar the essentially American beauty of the scene. 
Just the little grove, the Bosca, with its rude table and 
benches and quaint oven in the open made of a few stones, 
and the herb garden, scarcely anything else Italian, and 
yet you feel that the owner loves Italy, and remembers 
Italy, but yet loves America still more with its brave 
simplicity and its absolutely natural charm. 

This makes only one more instance of the supreme 
value of the application of good landscape-gardening 
ideas to "the genius of the place" in all countries and 
times, provided the personality of the owner and his other 
idiosyncrasies receive due consideration. In this way, 
one may achieve, at lesser or greater expense, a home the 
result of many aspirations bom of diverse experiences. 
One may have an English or American or French home 
bearing evidence of the effects of a strong personality, and 
yet it may have a touch, by no means overpowering, of 
a more alien, and possibly more desirable style, whether 
it be Italian, or Japanese, or clearly semi-tropical in effect. 
The landscape gardening thus becomes basic and imi- 
versal in its essential quality, and is at the same time 
full of personality and human feeling. 



Ill 

SIZE AND EXTENT OF AN ESTATE 

IT should appear from what has been already said 
that a beautiful piece of landscape gardening may 
be of many sizes from the village yard to the 
estate of thousands of acres. 

Many considerations, however, need weighing in 
each case, although the general laws of arrangement 
hold true throughout. These laws consist in the estab- 
lishment of certain types of treatment, each a unit, 
all varied continually, lapping over, contrasting with 
and contradicting each other ; built on the lines of nature 
yet really not nature, but nevertheless faithful to her 
spirit. The treatment of these various large or small 
country places and village lawns is chiefly, therefore, 
a question of relations between different parts. 

Therefore there should be a proper rhythm in these 

relations, a spacing, a notation that naturally applies to 

all kinds of design whether it be music, poetry, painting, 

architecture, or landscape gardening. The true spirit 

of design lies in the balance and poise of the parts, 

their variation, whether rapid or slow, tense and violent, 

or suave and tranquil. 

77 



78 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

In the village yard the sense of cosiness, the having 
something of one's own seems desirable, and enclosure 
is therefore needed on all sides, and the same with 
equal force applies to the country place. How much 
finer would the village yards be if this idea were put 
in practice, a bit of grass, bordering shrubbery, and 
such trees as the space will allow, and, instead of a 
straight path through the centre, one passing along 
half concealed through the foliage, with, at the feet of 
the bushes, flowers of all kinds, iris, etc. 

Then again there may be a little square or green in 
the quadrangle of a group of cottages: this place does 
not need shrubs, only trees; its charm lies in its open 
greensward and trees. Prince Piickler mentions an 
instance in England : 

"Not far from the parks is an interesting estab- 
lishment called 'The Cottages.' The proprietor, 
Mr. Harford, has endeavoured to realize the beau 
ideal of a village. A beautiful green space in the 
midst of a wood is surrounded by a winding road; 
on it are built nine cottages all of different forms and 
materials, stone, brick, wood, and roofed with thatch, 
tiles, and slate; each surrounded with different trees, 
and enwreathed with various sorts of clematis, rose, 
honeysuckle, and vine. The dwellings, which are 
perfectly detached though they form a whole, have 
separate gardens, and a common fountain which 
stands in the centre of the green, overshadowed by 
old trees. The gardens, divided by neat hedges, form 



Si3e ant) Bitent of an Bstate 79 

a pretty garland of flowers and herbs round the 
whole village. What crowns the whole is, that the 
inhabitants are all poor families, whom the generous 
proprietor allows to live in the houses rent free. No 
more delightful or well chosen spot could be found 
as a refuge for misfortune: its perfect seclusion and 
snugness breathe only peace and forgetfulness of the 
world." 

On the other hand, when we turn to larger places, 
twenty acres or many thousands of acres, the same prin- 
ciples apply to the architectural and the natural features, 
to the high and low, and broad and narrow masses, 
related and contrasted in a hundred ways. The house, 
the barns and stables, vegetable gardens, are all given 
due attention on their practical side, for use as well as 
for beauty, — nothing forced, nothing seemingly meant 
for display, dignified, noble, grand if you will, but never 
a sense of strain, although full of nuances, full of deli- 
cate elusive beauties. One great picture, or a series 
of attractive small lawns and glades, now various, now 
contradictory, and now contrasting. 

Here are two not altogether imaginary instances. 
One is a charming villa with beautiful outlooks in 
various directions over Florence and the Amo. The 
setting is formal, rightly, and highly decorative, for it 
is a part of the Boboli Gardens. Fountains, beauti- 
ful trees, everything choice and charming. But it is 
chiefly as a foreground to many views that we value 
it. One sits and feasts the eyes and mind on the lovely 



8o Xant)scape Hrcbftecture 

distant scenes and their many associations, and yet 
one remains in a resting place, a circumscribed area. 

In another place we find the location of a house and 
its tributary buildings made in a dense woods where 
the forest has been cut away to gain the necessary room. 
Here again the basic law of design applies, but how 
differently? The open space is made large enough for 
the buildings, gardens, and lawns with their enclosing 
plantations. Around these open spaces, however, along 
the border of the woods are found plantations of more 
trees and shrubs, running in and out of the forest, 
contrasting, contradicting, and yet harmonizing the 
new with the old, a fringe that straggles, blends, and 
loses itself, dies away so that the natural scene may 
still triumph and live; boundary lines that evidently 
exist but hardly appear. Such work needs artistic 
training and real knowledge of plants, and quite as great 
is the ability to open paths properly to beautiful glades 
and fine groups of trees, or perhaps to a pool or brook or 
some picturesque mass of rock. The roads through such 
regions should lead in devious ways, never straight, but 
on revealing lines that would inspire the imagination to 
wonder what will be next slipping around the corner. 
Doubtless, most persons have seen a straight vista cut 
through woods, to allow some statue or building to ap- 
pear at the end of it. Read what Richard Jeffries says 
about this in his chapter on "An English Deer Park": 

"Wide straight roads — you can call them nothing 
else — were cut through the finest woods so that on 




A Distant Vista in the Park of Prince Piickler von IMuskau, Silesia, Germany. 
From a Photograph by Thomas W. Sears, Providence, R. I. 



Si3e anb iBxtcnt of an Bstate 8i 

looking from a certain window or standing at a cer- 
tain spot in the grounds you might see a church tower 
at the end of the cutting. In some parks there are 
half a dozen such horrors shown to you as a great 
curiosity; some have a monument or pillar at the 
end. These hideous disfigurements of beautiful 
scenery should be wiped out in our day. The stiff 
straight cutting could soon be filled up by planting 
and after a time the woods would resume their 
natural condition. Many common highway roads 
are really delightful, winding through trees and hedge- 
rows with glimpses of hills and distant villages. 
But these planned straight vistas, radiating from a 
central spot as if done by ruler and pen, at once 
destroy the pleasant illusion of primeval forest. 
You may be dreaming under the oaks of the chase of 
Rosalind: the moment you enter such a vista all 
becomes commonplace." 

The object of these two examples is to show how 
extent and space in landscape of all sizes, especially 
the largest, can constitute many diverse and individual 
problems and yet how they should be unified into one 
scheme of landscape design. It should be all simple 
and yet almost infinite in its contrasts and harmonies. 
Prince Piickler speaks in Hints on Landscape Gardening 
about "frozen music" thus: 

"Even so one might compare the higher garden 
art with music, and at least as fitly as architecture 



82 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

has been called frozen music, call garden art grow- 
ing music. It too has its symphonies, adagios, and 
allegros, which stir the senses with vague and power- 
ful emotions. Further, as Nature offers her features 
to the landscape gardener for use and choice, so does 
she offer to music her fundamental tones, beautiful 
like the human voice, the song of birds, the thunder 
of the tempest, the roaring of the hurricane, the 
bodeful wailing of branches — ugly sounds like howl- 
ing, bellowing, clattering, and squeaking, yet the 
instruments bring all these out and work according 
to circumstances, ear splitting in the hands of the 
incompetent, entrancing when arranged by the artist 
in an orderly whole. The genial nature painter 
(landscape architect) does the same. He studies 
the manifold material given him by nature, and works 
the scattered parts by his art into a beautiful whole 
whose melody flatters the senses, but only unfolds 
its highest powers and yields the greatest enjoyment 
when harmony has breathed true soul into the work." 

This is not altogether sentiment. If you do not 
cut out your woods in this way, a way bom of much 
study and a good sense of harmony and trained skill, 
you will simply get the effects against which Jeffries 
rails, and Piickler exclaims. 

Every one of the lawns with great outlooks, or only 
village street scenes, should have the same application 
of contradiction and contrast breaking into each other 
and finally producing the harmony of a unified scheme, 



%i3C anb JBxtcnt ot an ^Estate 83 

a design which has rhythm and flow. The important 
thing is to keep the mind fixed on the broad outhnes, 
the articulation of any place, even the smallest, its 
bones and sinews, and not allow oneself to be diverted 
to producing more or less petty effects where a large 
one should be accomplished, setting out some rare or 
curious tree or shrub where it does not belong, just 
because you have a whim to set it there. The improper 
use of rocks, water, and paths and roads creates a strain 
and an incongruity that is not the contradiction and 
contrast that makes for harmony within the scheme 
of the landscape design. The artistic effect sought 
should be just as refined and rare and delicate as that of 
a Constable landscape. 

Perhaps the ordinary man, the man of the street, 
may believe he cannot achieve the desired result. 
Perhaps he cannot. The longer he works at it, however, 
the more beauties he will discover he can bring into 
being, and the more he tries the more he will want to 
try, for it all becomes more and more fascinating as he 
brings out more beauty of tree and shrub and flower. 
Many a man has been astonished at what he can ac- 
complish in landscape making. The trouble is that 
few think of doing such work on artistic lines. They 
simply set out plants and grade grounds with what they 
consider good taste. This artistic work they think 
belongs to the landscape architect, and doubtless it 
does, but no man will ever inspire or even assist the 
designer in his work, unless he follows and sustains 
him intelligently with an appreciation of his effort 



84 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

that can only come from actual love of the work and 
a certain knowledge possessed by himself. Landscape 
gardening means, therefore, much more than hiring a 
gardener to grade and plant the lawn, or a consulta- 
tion with the tree agent about trees and shrubs to be 
bought, and it means much more than the preparation 
of plans of location of buildings, roads, and plantations 
by some celebrated expert; it should really mean an 
unceasing struggle for years to attain results the 
accomplishment of which, with the help of men, of 
nature in field and forest, and of books, will prove an 
unceasing delight. Prince Piickler worked at it for 
half a century, on his estates at Moskau and elsewhere, 
and never ceased to enjoy it and to acquire fresh ideas. 
Read what he says about the extent and size of a park 
and it will be evident at once that he found on artistic 
lines inspiration for the most elevated conceptions 
wrought out in a duly ordered scheme. 
Prince Piickler says : 

"In order that the landscape gardener should 
achieve a great effect, it is not necessary that a park 
should be large. An extended estate is often so 
bungled, so belittled by incompetent treatment, that, 
lacking in unity, it appears quite small. I may here 
remark, by the way, that I think Michael Angelo 
totally wrong when he said about the Pantheon, ' Ye 
marvel at it on the earth, I will set it in the heavens.' 
He meant thereby to achieve a more imposing effect, 
and as he said, so he did. He gave the dome of 



5i3e ant) Bitent ot an lEstate 85 

St. Peter's the same size as the Pantheon, but 
how unfortunate is the result! Looming up in 
the air above the enormous masses of the building, 
St. Peter's Dome appears in proportion small and 
insignificant, whilst the dome of the old Pantheon, 
placed on the right base, appears after centuries 
as sublime as the arch of the firmament. 

"Poised on the summit of Mont Blanc the Pyra- 
mids would hardly appear as large as sentry boxes, 
and Mont Blanc itself, seen from the distant plains, 
looks like a little snow hill. Large and small are, 
therefore, relative terms. It is not from the thing 
itself we judge, but from its appearance in given 
surroundings, and it is here that landscape archi- 
tecture has the widest of fields. For instance, trees 
a hundred feet high, which in the middle distance 
hardly rise above the horizon, will at a short distance 
tower above it, hence, with intelligent management, 
with due appreciation of the value the foreground 
has to distance, it is possible to give character and 
expression to the landscape and secure an effect of 
grandeur and extent. 

"I cannot help remarking here that if I have al- 
ways held up as a model the general appearance of 
English parks, which testify to a universally diffused 
taste for park culture and embellishment, I still be- 
lieve that in given ways England might have done 
much better. It seems to me that with much beauty 
most English parks have one blemish which makes 
them rather tedious and monotonous on long ac- 



86 XanDscape Brcbitecturc 

quaintance. I have in mind neither their pleasure 
grounds, nor their gardens, which are full of variety, 
but their parks. For instance, in regard to the de- 
liberate treatment of these parks as features laid out 
on a diminutive scale, the effect seems to be altogether 
inadequate when compared to the grandeur and 
magnificence of the open country round them. In- 
deed, in my opinion, the outside country not infre- 
quently resembles far more a region ennobled by art 
in variety than the parks. 

"I have previously stated the proposition that size 
is not an absolutely necessary element in the making 
of a park, yet where it is possible, I think it very 
desirable, in order that a greater variety of parts 
be gained, a quality which will always present the 
supreme charm of novelty. Laid out with equal 
intelligence I should always prefer the more exten- 
sive to the smaller park, even if the latter should be 
more favoured by nature. In Prussia, where land 
has so much less value than in other countries, such 
large estates are easily obtainable, and I advise 
every one of my countrymen to strive for large places. 
It is certain that, considered as a little world sufficient 
imto itself, a park where one cannot ride or drive for 
an hour at least without going over the same roads, 
and which does not comprise many more walks, 
very soon tires one, if confined to it alone. But 
where a rich picturesque nature has already idealized 
the region around and has made it, as it were, into a 
great work of art, as in the case of many parts of 



Si3e ant) lEitent of an Bstate 87 

Switzerland, Italy, South Germany, or Silesia, then 
I am, on the whole, of the opinion that projects of 
parks are hors d'ceuvre. It would be like a Httle 
landscape in the comer of a magnificent Claude 
Lorrain. There one's work should be confined to the 
laying out of good roads so that the enjoyment of 
such rare scenery be made easier, while here and 
there taking down some isolated trees in order to open 
views which are hidden by nature, always indifferent 
to the display of her beauties. 

"Near the house, however, one should seek for 
the charm of a garden of modest proportions, which, 
whenever possible, would contrast with nature around. 
In such a garden one should have in view not so much 
the variety of a landscape, but comfort and charm, 
safety and elegance. The garden art of the Romans, 
which through the study of the classical writers, 
and especially through the description which Pliny 
gives of his villa, again came into practice in the 
fifteenth century in Italy, and was later altered into 
the so-called French gardens, into colder, less com- 
fortable forms, deserves particular consideration on 
this very point. This rich and sumptuous art, 
which may be called an extension of the art of archi- 
tecture from the house into the garden, or, as the 
English might say, the approach of the landscape 
to the very doors of the house, may be most suitably 
applied to this purpose. Imagine, for instance, 
among the precipices and waterfalls, the dark pine 
woods, and blue glaciers of mountainous Switzerland, 



I Xanbscape Hrcbttecture 

a classical, antique building, a palace from the Strada 
Balbi, sumptuous in its decorative flourishes, sur- 
rounded with high terraces, rich multi-coloured 
parterres of flowers, studded with marble statues 
and alive with the movement of waters; what a 
contrast would this be to the tremendous naked 
grandeur of the setting of mountains? A few steps 
aside in the woods, and palace and gardens would 
have vanished from view, as by a magic wand, to 
make room again for the undisturbed loneliness and 
majestic wilderness of nature. Farther on, perhaps, 
a bend in the road would open up an unexpected 
vista, where, in the distance, the work of art like a 
realized fairy dream would show through the dark 
firs, glowing in the light of the setting sun, or rising 
up over the mysterious darkness of the valley in a 
mass where, here and there, the tiny sparkles of 
lighted candles would glow. Would not such a pic- 
ture be wonderful, and owe its chief beauty largely 
to contrast? When nature offers her material, the 
scheme must be different; then the park, an oasis in 
a broad, flat space, must first create its own environ- 
ment. Although the same laws are everywhere the 
foundation of beauty, they have to be interpreted 
and expressed in various ways. In such a case, 
where no impression by great contrasts can be 
achieved, one must carefully seek to create a pleasant 
and gentle, general harmony, bringing into view 
large elements, such as the distant views which may 
be secured, into correspondence with the character 



Si3e anC) JEiteut of an Estate 89 

given to the park. In such a problem the size of 
the domain becomes a chief consideration. In the 
former example it is only necessary to embellish a 
single spot to make all surrounding nature serve one's 
own purpose. Here, the treatment should extend 
to the whole region. Examples which lie between 
these two schemes will require modifications of both 
propositions and be tastefully treated according to 
the respective localities. In all these cases the 
principles I have laid down are basic ones." 

Finally, careful consideration should be given to 
the dimensions of an estate or park with regard to the 
limitations that the topography, the hills and wood- 
land and water naturally impose on the purchaser. It 
is easy for a person of means to add field unto field, 
but the question is, does he secure thereby an estate 
or park that naturally fits into a well-considered land- 
scape scheme? 

If this cannot be done, it would be wise to abandon 
the scheme altogether and go elsewhere, or else accept 
the limitations of the smaller place. 

Nothing is more important than the establishing in 
the beginning the proper boundaries to a place. Time 
and study and the best advice are well employed in 
securing this end. 

The illustration of a view from West Point, New 
York, called the Gates of the Highlands, is given to 
show to what extent the eye can reach and feel that it 
contains within its domain a definite landscape picture. 



90 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

The advantage of studying such a scene is that you 
have before you a perfectly good model for landscape- 
gardening work designed to any scale even the small- 
est. It is simply a grand example of the way nature, 
in her best mood, designs her scenery. The view also 
illustrates how by replacing the water of the river by 
grass you could obtain the meadow effect, with trees 
and shrubs jutting out into the sea of green, and thus 
create the pastoral scene which as well as the water 
effect may prove to be the eye of the landscape. 




.- M 



H 



IV 

ENCLOSURES 

THE question of fences is not altogether one of 
landscape art, for protection of this kind be- 
comes a necessity in most countries; however, it 
has its advantages from the artistic standpoint ; outside 
of and beyond all the practical advantages of an en- 
closure its landscape effect has value. It individualizes 
a place, it sets a boundary, it marks the confines of 
a home or a possession, if it does nothing more. It 
indicates that the frame of the picture is here, and the 
enclosure warns one and all that here they must stop, 
and go no farther except as the proprietor may allow 
them the freedom of his domain for picnics, cross-cut 
paths, and various other privileges. Landscape art 
should seek to plant out and shut out in great part the 
boundary walls or fences and allow only occasional 
glimpses to prove that they exist and are performing 
their proper function. 

There is a tendency at the present time to favour 
the open lawn scheme where a dozen houses or more 
show no boundary line between them except the sur- 
veyor's monuments. These places are generally com- 

91 



92 Xan&scape Hrcbitecturc 

paratively small, and throwing them all together into 
one lawn is thought to make a better display of what- 
ever beauty they may possess, or that may be added 
to them by planting trees and shrubs and flowers. 
But it will be found on studying the situation in the 
light of the laws of landscape design that a number of 
these buildings, included together and owned by per- 
sons of diverse interests and tastes, will not lend them- 
selves successfully to one landscape scheme. The 
variety of human interests create contrasts and con- 
tradictions that will not come into harmony with each 
other on account of the "personal equation," the 
difference of make-up of the owners. Theoretically it 
is a beautiful idea and seems practicable, but to obtain 
a really artistic effect in this way, no, it is not likely 
to be done. People may fancy they have lawns with 
many houses and owners, in one great enclosure, that is 
satisfactory, but the probability is that they do not 
know a well-designed lawn when they see it, and think 
they have something which they have not. 

The intimate way of treating the small home will 
really commend itself to everyone who is not led away by 
the influence of a caprice or fashion. It gives the surest 
way of securing the most comfort and pleasure for the 
dweller under his own vine and fig tree. With wire fence 
covered with vines entirely, or a rough wall of stone, 
quarry stone, uncut, with the interstices devoid of ce- 
ment and filled with rich earth and rock plants, stone- 
crop, prickly pear, and other rock plants, the home be- 
comes one's very own. Flowers cluster around the base 



Bnclosures 93 

of the wall, or honeysuckle fence, and shrubs partially 
screen it, and the lawn within becomes a park in mini- 
ature, its design obedient to park laws. Everything 
would naturally be in proportion, trees and shrubs of 
moderate and even dwarf growth finding place on the 
smallest lawn. There is likely on the small place to 
be danger of overcrowding, for there should be a 
breadth of grass plot or lawn sufficient to make the 
place look larger rather than smaller than it really is. 
The sense of comparative breadth can always be main- 
tained in the smallest place. 

It should hardly need repeating that a boundary 
enclosure of this kind should have along its borders 
shrubs and trees so arranged as to not only carry out 
the general law of design, but to reveal at intervals 
brief glimpses over the boundary to pleasing objects 
beyond. 

A fence is generally an unattractive part of the 
landscape. It is artificial, no matter how it is designed, 
whether of iron, wood, or stone. Wire fastened to 
iron posts makes a cheap fence that will last at least 
twenty years in many cases, but it is ugly. Cover it 
with honeysuckles and it is beautiful. There can be 
little objection to any fence, if covered with vines or 
other vegetation, especially if trees and shrubs lend 
the support of their protecting and screening foliage. 
The fence then becomes quite as attractive as any 
other part of the place, especially as it need not shut out, 
and indeed never should entirely shut out, important 
views of spaces exterior and beyond. 



94 Xanbscape Brcbitecture 

A small place especially if enclosed as it should be 
ought to have nothing spectacular about it, no showy 
plants, trees or shrubs or flowers, set out solely for 
display. If there is a proper place for them in the 
landscape scheme, use them, but not otherwise. No 
grottoes, no rock work unless rocks crop out of the soil, 
no pergolas unless an arbour is wanted for a grape 
vine, and then it only finds a proper place in the general 
scheme provided it is perfectly simple. All more or 
less theatrical arrangements only make the enclosure 
seem more confined and unnatural. 

In the case of the large place there may be a series 
of lawns unenclosed, groups of buildings, mansion re- 
gion, farm region, woodland of vast extent; then the 
boundary lines disappear except where openings are 
made to disclose far-distant scenery and then the en- 
closures count little in the scheme. Perhaps it may be 
a territory like Central Park where the city needs to 
be shut out altogether because there is nothing beyond 
to tempt the eye. On the other hand, on a place like 
Muskau, Germany, Prince Piickler would naturally 
seek to retain many of his distant views because they 
were as important to him as those near his house. In 
so large a place (thousands of acres) the enclosures 
would hardly mean much except when one went near 
them. 

"I have often heard the opinion expressed that 
nothing is more contrary to the way of nature — • 
which is, after all, what landscape gardening seeks 



JEnclosures 95 

to conform itself to — than the enclosures of a park, 
but I think otherwise, and quite approve of the 
English fashion of having every park enclosed with 
great care, but this enclosure should be varied and 
in large part it should not be felt inside the park. 
At bottom this question of enclosure is rather a 
matter of expediency than of cesthetics, and yet as 
an element of beauty I do not condemn it. Are 
not such beautiful uncultivated spots marked off 
as it were by distinct boundaries, and does not such 
a division often increase their charm? For example, 
a valley shut in by a dense forest or impassable rocks, 
an island surrounded by running water, give the 
feeling of home, of entire possession, of security 
against intrusion or disturbance, allowing us to 
enjoy all the more comfortably the beauty of the 
surroundings. And, therefore, in a park the pre- 
sence of a protecting wall or fence should be wel- 
comed as a highly desirable element, necessary for 
the peace and security of our enjoyment in excluding 
the unwelcome intruder, but which should be so 
contrived as to permit us to go out from the park into 
the surrounding country. Hence the sight of an 
enclosure can only be obnoxious to those who hold 
so exaggerated a notion of freedom that, hating 
everything that bears the name of barrier, they 
would wish to overturn even imaginary barriers! 
In England, as I have said before, not only every 
park, but on account of the precious cattle, every 
section of it, every coppice and every exposed young 



96 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

tree is surrounded with a fence, and although this 
disturbs the general effect by being carried to excess, 
I have frequently found that here and there a fence 
is very picturesque, especially where the character 
of the landscape changes, the fence in this case pre- 
paring the mind for new impressions and affording 
an easy transition to new scenes. 

"So for security's sake let our parks have an en- 
closure high and strong, assuming that this is pos- 
sible — for to be sure, just as French cookery books 
very wisely begin their receipts with 'Ayez une 
carpe, ayez un perdreau,' etc., I preface my advice 
with the proviso that, locality being favourable and 
means at hand, the park should be enclosed. But 
inasmuch as the heavier and bigger the wall, the 
worse, as a rule, is its appearance, and bearing in 
mind also that it is a great mistake to limit the field 
of fancy by too familiar a view of its limits, a close 
and broad plantation should hide the greater part 
of it. If such a barrier is made by a wooden fence 
it should never be seen, but supplied with interesting 
points at intervals, and a deep ha-ha, or ditch, along- 
side, while all the abruptness of the hollow thus made 
can be avoided by covering it with varied plantations. 
The paths should only approach this ha-ha or ditch 
when, for instance, by means of a small bridge, one 
wishes to sally forth through an opening into the 
surrounding country. The manner of screening the 
bridge and the boundaries should be as varied as 
possible. In one place the foliage should run two 



Bnclosures 97 

or three hundred paces along the boundaries, showing 
a high plantation of trees: in other places again it 
should be made up of narrower and lower groups of 
trees so that over and beyond one can catch glimpses 
of the outside country. In other places, these far- 
distant views should be visible above coppices and 
under isolated trees, standing from among but high 
above the shrubbery. If a wall surrounds the park 
this can, at intervals, be allowed freely to emerge, 
broken only by scattering bushes and trees, and will 
look best in a ruined or unkempt state, covered with 
ivy and Virginia creeper, or let the foliage be merged 
into a building, a gallery, etc. Under such condi- 
tions the wall will never be a disturbing influence, 
but an improvement. 

"Along this plantation on the boundary, some- 
times broad, sometimes narrow, but hardly ever 
more than 3 riithen (48 feet), should run irregularly 
a grass road 24 feet wide. On the side towards the 
interior of the park begins the mixed plantation for 
forming a screen for the general view. Here decid- 
uous-leaved trees predominate and in summer hide 
the too monotonous evergreen foliage which should 
be left conspicuous only where it is desirable. It is 
surprising how such an arrangement enlivens a park 
even in melancholy winters, and how the lawn or 
grass path even amid snow and ice, where everything 
else is bare, makes the most charming walk. The 
evergreen foreground which covers the boundaries 
both winter and summer and borders the grass path 



98 %an^3cav>c Brcbitecture 

gives colour to the whole region, and supplies a want 
greatly sought after in winter days, although a well 
grouped and designed park should, even without 
colour, during all seasons of the year, satisfy our 
sense of beauty, especially in winter when all ordinary 
decoration is absent, making an interesting picture 
by the harmony of its masses of trees, lawns, water, 
its pleasant lines of paths and banks. That the 
border plantation of pines and other evergreen trees 
should be planted so as to appear a natural growth 
is obvious, and in the chapter on Plantations examples 
will be given in detail. Meanwhile the sketch in Plate 
I. will make my views clearer. At a the green path 
from the park is practically hidden, at b it appears 
only as a cutting which loses itself in the shrubbery. 

"Along the boundary wall of many English parks, 
where was carried out in old times the work of Brown 
and his followers, there runs a path between an almost 
regular band of foliage planted with shrubs and trees, 
so that the wall is often conspicuous between the 
tree trunks. 

"My reader must not confound my plan with 
this English plan, as the green path I advocate is a 
part of the lawn, and has no definite distinction from 
the lawn, but simply melts into it. The English 
idea originated in the infancy of landscape gardening, 
when parks of such size were first laid out, and it was 
a matter of vanity to make them appear as large as 
possible; but the means defeated the end, since they 
ostentatiously pointed out what they should have 







3^'? 
















r ^ 



Ak- 



J J 



/^ 



^>.^^r. 



''fB»nBire'WrfTPB!«¥i#W?M)l* 



Goethe's Cottage at Weimar. 
Redrawn from an Old Print. 




A Honeysuckle Hedge Growing on Wire Mesh and Iron Posts. 



Enclosures 99 

artistically concealed. Apart from this enclosure, 
which is necessary for protection, it is obvious that 
every interesting feature of the distant landscape 
should be included in the park, all outer rays con- 
centrating into this focus. Distant views of great 
extent lying way beyond the actual grounds give an 
appearance of measureless extent. When such op- 
portunities are skilfully utilized they greatly surpass 
the reality. They must, however, be so managed 
that one should never become aware of the intervening 
park boundaries. Moreover such special features 
should never be seen twice in the same way. For in- 
stance : many partial glimpses may be given of a dis- 
tant hill, but only once should the hill be revealed in its 
entirety. The same applies to the town or city. Such 
effective planning, affording glimpses which tempt 
one's imagination and excite the pleasure of anticipa- 
tion, and compositions in which each part is interde- 
pendent, are far more difficult to achieve than full 
revelations. When people stumble on a remarkably 
beautiful view and, after lingering long, remark, 
' What a pity that great tree stands in the foreground, 
how much more grand the view would be if it were ab- 
sent ' — they would be much astonished if one did them 
the service to hew away the condemned tree. They 
would have a stretch of country before them, but no 
more picture — for a garden in the great style is really 
a picture gallery and pictures demand a frame."' 
The appearance of a fence made of picturesque- 

' Prince Piickler, Hints on Landscape Gardening. 



100 Xan&scapc Hrcbitecture 

looking stones or a vine-covered iron wire has real value 
as a landscape feature in itself. The use of the vines 
and the stone, or the wire, are however chiefly a means 
of making known the existence of a boundary line. 
Consequently the blending of boundary plantations, 
trees and shrubs and vines, should be so complete as 
to largely confine itself to the suggestion of the presence 
of a limit to the place. There would naturally be 
views here and there, out and beyond, except on oc- 
casions when discordant elements need shutting out. 
The "hedge" sensation should be eliminated, and the 
border plantation made after the type which in the 
case of trees and shrubs and flowers is intended to ap- 
ply to the composition of every part of the place. The 
illustration showing a boundary fence on the estate of 
Muskau is intended to explain how the trees and shrubs 
should be massed along the boundaries. The fence is 
made of wood and on that account is not altogether 
to be commended. Otherwise, the irregularity of the 
height of the pickets gives it an attractive appearance. 
Carrying out the same idea, the base, outside of the 
fence bordering the sidewalk, should be planted with 
flowers, irises, the larger sedums, saxifrage, anemones, 
phlox, and goldenrod, with here and there one shrub or 
three; — groups of shrubs planted in odd numbers al- 
ways compose better. The sidewalk, in a sense, 
belongs to the public and therefore it would be unwise 
to leave shrubs to be injured on the curb line; other- 
wise the planting of shrub groups among the shade 
trees that border the road would be desirable, because 



Bnclosures loi 

even here it is well to follow out consistently the 
typical scheme of planting that pertains to the land- 
scape of the entire place. At least we can go far 
towards retaining a natural effect by planting trees 
on the curb at unequal distances — 35 feet — 40 feet — 
45 feet and even 50 feet or 60 feet apart. The kinds of 
shade trees used can also be made to vary the effect, 
not by changing the species continually, but by planting 
a dozen or more of one sort together. If the road 
winds, it is a good idea to plant one kind from one turn 
to the next as far as the eye can see. The beauty of 
this system of irregular planting, especially in the case 
of shrubs and flowers, is that any damage done by the 
public does not produce such defacing effects as would 
occur in a symmetrically formed group, or in a hedge. 

It is a fact, however, that a carefully worked out 
group, an evidently foreordained design would be 
more likely to survive unscathed than carelessly made 
plantations, the composition of which is characterized, 
to use a homely phrase, by neither rhyme nor reason. 
Thoughtless and uninstructed persons are apt to think 
that whenever they see a plantation along a fence that 
looks as if it had sprung up there naturally, it must be 
evident that the arrangement can never have been the 
result of a carefully studied design. 

This concealment of intention is truly what ought to 
be instinctively practised if the design is good. But in 
attempting to do such work it should be remembered 
that every plant counts in the scheme and that not one 
plant can be safely planted in any haphazard fashion. 



V 

LOCATION OF BUILDINGS 

IN several ways the spot where buildings are located 
should be controlling. They occupy the key to 
the situation. Here most of the time the human 
beings live, the men, women, and children, and their 
physical needs and comforts should be satisfied and 
their mental and spiritual desires, for here man abides 
and finds his home, and if he wanders he returns here, 
and wants in this spot especially the very best that life 
can give him. Consequently, the house must have the 
chief part of his attention, and therefore too much care 
cannot be given to the choice of the site. This is the 
way Humphry Repton expresses the same idea: 
"However various opinions may be on the choice of 
a situation for a house, yet there appear to be certain 
principles on which such choice ought to be founded; 
and these may be deduced from the following consider- 
ations: First: The natural character of the surround- 
ing country. Secondly: The style, character, and size 
of the house. Thirdly: The aspects of exposure, both 
with regard to the sun and the prevalent winds of the 
country. Fourthly: The shape of the ground near 




A Garduncr's Coltaj^c at Skylands — A Country Estate in New Jersey, 
From a Photograph by William J. Wilson. 




Windsor Castle, England. 
From an Old Print. 



Xocatfon ot JSuilMnas 103 

the house. Fifthly: The views from the several apart- 
ments; and Sixthly : The numerous objects of comfort — 
such as a dry soil, a supply of good water, proper space 
for offices, with various other conveniences essential to 
a mansion in the country, and which in a town may 
sometimes be dispensed with, or at least very differently 
disposed. " 

Architects' advice is not sufficient, landscape archi- 
tects should be called in to study the shape of the 
ground and to select the place where the lawns and 
shrubbery will make the surroundings of the house 
most convenient and comfortable and secure the best 
landscape effect. The engineer should also advise as 
to the drainage and the chemist as to the character of 
the soil with a view to its fertilization and also as to the 
quality of the drinking water. It seems a great deal of 
trouble to take to locate a house, but the wise man 
decides on all these things beforehand and saves him- 
self a great deal of trouble in the end. 

The architect naturally looks to the many questions 
of comfort and beauty that the landscape architect 
is not necessarily called on to discuss, such as the way 
the sun comes in at the windows and from what quarter 
the cold winds blow. The modelling of the land how- 
ever is the landscape architect's special province, and 
every pound of soil that comes from the cellar, and 
such other soil as has to be taken from elsewhere, should 
be under the control of the landscape architect and his 
assistants. To them exclusively should be delegated 
this work, for only in this way can an artistic result 



104 XanOscape Hrcbitecture 

be accomplished satisfactorily on the most important 
part of the grounds. On the other hand, the architect 
should be consulted by the landscape architect concern- 
ing the kind of vines that should be grown on the 
house. Again we find the contrasting and over- 
lapping of contradictory elements in the use of plants 
of various kinds that are needed over and in the ver- 
andas and porticoes to produce harmony between the 
house and the adjacent landscape, a sort of interlocking 
of horticultural and architectural features which can 
be made to produce charming combinations. 

As an illustration of the importance of this way of 
treating the site, read the account of Tintem Abbey 
given by Prince Piickler in his Tour of England: 

"It would be difficult to imagine a more favour- 
able situation or a more sublime ruin. The en- 
trance to it seems as if contrived by the hand of 
some skilful scene painter to produce the most 
striking effect. The church, which is large, is still 
almost perfect, the roof alone and a few of the pillars 
are wanting. The ruins have received just that 
degree of care which is consistent with the full 
preservation of their character; all unpicturesque 
rubbish which could obstruct the view is removed, 
without any attempt at repair and embellishment. 
A beautiful smooth turf covers the ground, and 
luxuriant creeping plants grow amid the stones. 
The fallen ornaments are laid in picturesque confu- 
sion, a perfect avenue of thick ivy stems climbing up 



location ot JSuilMngs 105 

the pillars and forming a roof overhead. The better 
to secure the ruin, a new gate of antique workman- 
ship with iron ornaments is put up. When this is 
suddenly opened, the effect is most striking and 
surprising. You suddenly look down the avenue of 
ivy-clad pillars, and see their grand perspective lines 
closed at a distance of three hundred feet by a mag- 
nificent window eighty feet high and thirty broad; 
through the intricate tracery you see a wooded 
mountain from whose side project abrupt masses 
of rock. Overhead the wind plays in the garlands 
of ivy, and the clouds pass swiftly across the deep 
blue sky. When you reach the centre of the church, 
whence you look to the four extremities of the cross, 
you see the two transept windows nearby as large 
and as beautiful as the principal one; through each 
you command a picture entirely different, but each 
in the wild and sublime style which harmonizes so 
perfectly with the building. Immediately around 
the ruin is a luxuriant orchard. In spring how 
exquisite must be the effect of these grey venerable 
walls rising out of that sea of fragtance and beauty. 
A Vandal Lord and Lord Lieutenant of the country 
conceived the pious design of restoring the church. 
Happily Heaven took him to itself before he had time 
to execute it. " 

Everything that has been here said about the loca- 
tion of buildings applies equally to other buildings on 
any place; the interlocking of vines and other plants 



io6 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

with the buildings can nearly always be made to 
accomplish beautiful results. 

If the estate be comparatively small the house and 
the outbuildings should be segregated, grouped to- 
gether and planted with trees and shrubs, so as to se- 
clude them from the general landscape. In the case of 
some fine view it may be wise to leave an outlook from 
the house into the distance. On the other hand, the 
trees and shrubs always help the house where they 
partially screen its entire mass from view, only afford- 
ing glimpses of the roofs through the foliage. This 
does not mean that the trees and shrubs should be 
allowed to smother the house, for there should be open 
space, lawns and formal gardens, near the house, and 
outbuildings, but only that as you approach it from 
certain directions the roofs should emerge from a mass 
of foliage. 

One of the most difficult problems to be settled is the 
height of the first floors of the principal living rooms 
above the surrounding lawn. This is always a ques- 
tion that requires careful consideration both by archi- 
tect and landscape architect. An open level space is 
generally desirable for the site of a house unless it is 
designed in a special manner on two or more levels, 
and in any case it should not be set on a pinnacle or 
peak of ground. 

"All natural shapes of ground must necessarily 
fall under one of these descriptions, viz., convex, 
concave, plane, or inclined plane. I will suppose 



Xocatiou ot Bnil^inQS 107 

it granted that, except in very romantic situations, 
all the rooms on the principal floor ought to range 
on the same level, and that there must be a platform, 
or certain space of ground, with a gentle descent from 
the house every way. If the ground be naturally 
convex, or what is generally called a knoll, the size 
of the house must be adapted to the size of the 
knoll: thus a small building only one hundred feet in 
front may be placed upon such a hillock, with a 
sufficient platform around it; but if a building three 
hundred feet long should be required it is evident 
that the crown of the hill must be taken off, and then 
the shape of the ground becomes very different from 
its original form : for although the small house would 
have a sufficient platform, the large one will some- 
times be on the brink of a very steep bank ; and this 
difficulty would be increased by raising the ground to 
set the large house on the same level with the smaller 
one. It therefore follows that if the house must 
stand on a natural hillock, the building should not be 
larger than its situation will admit; and where such 
hillocks do not exist in places proper for a house in 
every other respect, it is sometimes possible for art 
to supply what nature seems to have denied. But 
it is not possible in all cases ; a circumstance which 
proves the absurdity of those architects who design 
and plan a house, without any previous knowledge of 
the situation or shape of the ground on which it is to 
be built. "^ 

'Humphry Repton, Art of Landscape Gardening, chap, iii., p. 28. 



io8 XanDscape Hrcbttecture 

Too great stress cannot be laid on the advisability of 
securing directly about the house the highest degree of 
horticultural finish. Here should be found the most 
perfect turf (a difficult problem), the richest flower 
garden, the choicest and rarest evergreens and shade 
trees; — these represent in a way and for the lawn 
statuesque beauty better than statues themselves, 
which indeed have no place there. Richard Payne 
Knight wrote sensibly on this subject of landscape gar- 
dening around the house at the end of the eighteenth 
century. He was a trustee of the British Museum and 
a noted Greek scholar, and united with Sir Uvedale 
Price in reacting against the extremes and exaggerations 
of the landscape school of Brown and Repton. He 
speaks thus of the house and its immediate surround- 
ings: 

"For this reason we require immediately adjoin- 
ing the buildings of opulence and luxury that every- 
thing should assume its character; and not only be, 
but appear to be dressed and cultivated. In such 
places neat gravel walks, mown turf, and flowering 
plants and shrubs trained and distributed by art are 
perfectly in character. 

"In the decoration of grounds adjoining a house, 
much should depend on the character of the house 
itself ; if it be neat and regular, neatness and regularity 
should accompany it ; but if it be rugged and pictur- 
esque and situated amid scenery of the same character, 
art should approach it with more caution : for though 



Xocatlon of BuilOtnas 109 

it be in itself an avowed work of art, yet the influ- 
ence of time, with the accompaniments of trees and 
creepers, may have given it a character of nature 
which ought to be as little disturbed as is consistent 
with comfort : for after all the character of nature is 
more pleasing than anything that can be given by art. 
At all events, the character of dress and artificial 
neatness ought never to be suffered to encroach 
upon the park or the forest; where it is contrary to 
propriety as it is to beauty, and where its intro- 
duction by our modem landscape gardeners affords 
one of the most memorable instances of any recorded 
in the history of fashions of the extravagant absurd- 
ity with which an insensate passion for novelty may 
infect a whole nation. " 

The problem of how to plant around buildings should 
be solved by considering the house or stable as distinct 
and yet related, each one to be treated individually and 
collectively, especially with due regard to the general 
effect. The more the outbuildings are screened from 
the house the better, but there may be a like graduated 
treatment adopted as was shown in the case of the pas- 
sage of the pleasure ground to the garden. The land- 
scape treatment of the territory of the outbuildings 
and vegetable gardens needs as careful study as any 
other part of the estate in order to make a harmonious 
general effect. 

Prince Puckler writes thus in Hints on Landscape 
Gardening: 



no Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

"Buildings should never stand freely exposed, 
lest they appear as spots, unconnected with the 
nature surrounding them. Concealment enhances 
beauty, and here something should always be left 
to the imagination. The eye frequently finds 
more pleasure in a single chimney in the distance, 
with its spiral of grey smoke curling upward against 
a background of trees, than in a bare palace exposed 
to view on all sides, which nature has not yet lov- 
ingly approached and embraced. It is highly im- 
portant that buildings should always take on the 
character of the landscape in which they figure. A 
contrast may also occasionally fit in with the char- 
acter of the whole, but it must always harmonize, 
as I have pointed out in the example in the last 
section : the sublimity of wild nature and magnificent 
art. A pretty villa would not be a fitting contrast, 
while an imposing ruin would present an analogy but 
no contrast. Many of our German architects regard 
this too little. Buildings in a city for instance must 
be different from buildings in a park. In the one case 
they are complete in themselves ; but in the other they 
are only a component part of the whole and are de- 
pendent on it for picturesque effect, which they in turn 
are also called upon to produce ; hence their effect in 
the landscape must be carefully studied." 

In other words, there should be conformity to the 
character of the landscape in the design of the buildings. 
The landscape architect and architect need to study 



Xocatton of JSuilMngs m 

this problem in the utmost sympathy. It is not only 
the character of the buildings but the selection of the 
site, as before pointed out, that demands their co-oper- 
ation in the interests of their client. 

Here again in Hmts on Landscape Gardening, chap- 
ter iv., Prince Puckler's words of advice are pertinent 
as illustrating one side of the question : 

"In general, a certain irregularity is preferable 
in buildings in a park, as being more in conformity 
with nature and more picturesque. A temple de- 
voted to a cult, a theatre, a museum devoted to art, 
doubtless demand symmetry and a more severe 
style, but the mansion or villa gain by greater 
irregularity, in comfort as well as picturesqueness. 
This same principle appears in the designs of the 
ancient villas and country houses, as we may gather 
from the ruins. The most noteworthy example is 
perhaps the villa of Hadrian near Tivoli. Traces 
of this principle are also found in the Italy of the 
Renaissance, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. 
Buildings half hidden by others, large and small 
windows on the same face of the building, side doors, 
projecting and receding comers, occasionally a high 
bare wall with a richly ornamented cornice, roofs 
jutting out and balconies unsymmetrically placed, 
in short, everywhere a great but by no means unhar- 
monious irregularity, which pleases the fancy because 
the reason for every departure from regularity is 
evident or may be surmised. " 



112 Xan&scape Brcbftecture 

In the same chapter there are some remarks on the 
selection of a site that are worth studying : 

"The site of a building must also be carefully con- 
sidered. For instance, a feudal castle in the midst of 
a level field of grain, as we find at Machem near 
Leipzig, appears somewhat comical. And so is the 
Egyptian pyramid which is to be found there in the 
idyllic surroundings of a gay birch wood. As well 
imagine a straw thatched hut surroimded by a 
French parterre. All these are undesirable contrasts 
that destroy the harmony. For example, pointed 
Gothic buildings would make an unfavourable 
impression if set among spruces and Lombardy 
poplars, while amongst oaks, beeches, and pines they 
would be quite in place. On the other hand, spruces 
and poplars harmonize with the horizontal lines of 
an oriental villa. 

"The importance of harmonious beauty has for 
its corollary that the purpose of a building must be 
evident in its style. A Gothic house, for instance, 
which is nothing else, and has no other significance, 
being built just for the sake of having something 
Gothic on the grounds, produces a feeling of dis- 
satisfaction. It is a hors d'ceuvre, uncomfortable as 
a dwelling, and as a decoration unrelated to its sur- 
roundings; but if we see on a distant hill the spires 
of a chapel rising above the ancient trees, and we are 
told that this is the burial place of the family, or a 
temple actually used for worship, then we feel satis- 



Xocation ot BuilMngs 113 

fied, because we find utility combined with fitting 
beauty. 

" The same effect of dissatisfaction is produced by an 
immense palace set on a small estate, which is sur- 
rounded by the huts of poverty, or a vast park with 
an insignificant cottage in the centre. 

"Buildings then must stand in appropriate relation 
to their surroundings and always have a positive 
purpose. Hence one should be very careful in the 
matter of temples, which in ancient times had a 
quite different, popular religious significance, and 
also with meaningless monuments, if they are to 
leave a deeply moving and not a trivial impression. 
The trite, incoherent manner in which in these days 
Mythology is taken up, makes it desirable to abandon 
it entirely, and similarly to refrain from the rule of 
inscriptions which are intended in certain localities 
to arouse certain sentiments. 

" The most important building in the estate or park 
is naturally the dwelling house. It should be suited 
not only to the surroundings, but also to the posi- 
tion, the means, and even to the calling of the owner. 
The roomy castle and its battlements and towers are 
perhaps unsuitable to the merchant, but quite becom- 
ing to the noble aristocrat, the fame of whose family 
has been handed down for centuries, and whose 
forefathers really needed them, to enclose their abode 
in strongholds. The elder Repton (Amenity Repton 
so named) went so far as to hide entirely with trees 
the fine view of the city of Bristol, in order that the 



114 !JLan6scape Brcbitecture 

owner of a certain villa, a merchant who had retired 
from business, should not be unpleasantly reminded 
of his past cares and worries by beholding the city 
where he had spent his laborious days. This is 
thoroughly English, as well as the endeavour of many 
egotists there to hide from view everything that 
belongs to their place, no matter how picturesque 
it is. Without going so far, I will say here that the 
view from the dwelling house should harmonize as 
much as possible with the individual taste of 
the owner, since the eye always rests on it, and 
hence the view of the house should be secondary to 
the view from the house, while the reverse might 
hold good for most of the other buildings of the 
park." 

Here evidently the author thinks the architect and 
landscape architect should work together. It might be 
well to add his remarks on the retention of old houses, 
which even in America have pertinence. 

"Where there are genuine old castles (or manor 
houses) which have been in the possession of the 
family for a long time (not new buildings in imita- 
tion of an old style) I am of the opinion that their 
ancient character should be preserved when they are 
enlarged or made more comfortable, even if a much 
finer building might be erected on the spot. The 
memory of a bygone time, the majesty of years, 
also count for something, and it is a real misfortune 



Xocatfon of BullJ)inas 115 

that our pasteboard age has destroyed so many 
of these relics. 

"The Enghsh have not yet been guilty of this folly, 
and nowhere else are family possessions more re- 
ligiously and more proudly preserved. We also find 
there many estates of mere bourgeois families which 
for more than six centuries have passed from father 
to son, and with so little change in general that, 
for instance, in Malahide in Ireland, the family 
seat of the Talbots, even the woodwork and the 
furniture of entire apartments date back to those 
early years. And who can behold the splendours 
of majestic Warwick Castle, with its colossal tower 
a thousand years old, or the royal seat of the Duke 
of Northumberland, without feeling penetrated with 
romantic awe, and without delighting in the match- 
less beauty of these grand piles?" 

An extract from Prince Piickler's Tour of England 
gives a wonderful idea of Warwick Castle from the 
landscape critic's point of view: 

"It was an enchanted palace decked in the most 
charming garb of poetry, and surrounded by all 
the majesty of history, the sight of which still fills 
me with delighted astonishment." Again he writes: 
"Going on, you lose sight of the castle for a while, 
and soon find yourself before a high embattled wall, 
built of large blocks of stone, covered by Time with 
moss and creeping plants. Lofty iron gates slowly 



ii6 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

unfold to admit you in a deep hollow way blasted 
in the rock, the stone walls of which are tapestried 
with the most luxuriant vegetation. The carriage 
rolls with a dull heavy sound along the smooth 
rock, which old oaks darkly overshadow. Suddenly 
at a turn of the way, the castle starts from the wood 
into broad daylight, resting on a soft grassy slope; 
and the large arch of the entrance dwindles to the 
size of an insignificant doorway between the two 
enormous towers, at the foot of which you stand." 
"Let your fancy conjure up a space about twice 
the size of the Coliseum at Rome, and let it transport 
you into a forest of romantic luxuriance. You now 
overlook the large court surrounded by mossy trees 
and majestic buildings, which, though of every va- 
riety of form, combine to create one sublime and 
connected whole, whose lines, now shooting upwards, 
now falling off into the blue air, with the contin- 
ually changing beauty of the green earth beneath, 
produce, not symmetry indeed, but that higher har- 
mony elsewhere proper to nature's own works 
alone. " 

And describing the scene more fully he writes in the 
same letter: 

"The first glance at your feet falls on a broad 
simple carpet of turf, around which a softly winding 
gravel path leads to the entrance and exit of the 
gigantic edifice. Looking backwards, your eye 



location ot Buil&ings 117 

rests on the two black towers of which the oldest, 
called Guy's Tower, rears its head aloft in solitary- 
threatening majesty high above all the surrounding 
foliage as if cast in one mass of solid iron ; the other, 
built by Beauchamp, is half hidden by a pine and 
a chestnut, the noble growth of centuries. Broad- 
leaved ivy vines climb along the walls, here twining 
around the tower, there shooting up to its very 
summit. On your left lies the inhabited part of the 
castle, and the chapel, ornamented with many lofty 
windows of various size and form, while the opposite 
side of the vast quadrangle, almost entirely without 
windows, presents only a mighty mass of embattled 
stone, broken by a few larches of colossal height and 
huge arbutuses which have grown to a surprising 
size in the shelter they have so long enjoyed. But 
the sublimest spectacle yet awaits you, when you 
raise your eyes straight before you. This fourth 
side, which has sunk into a low, bushy basin forming 
the court, and with which the buildings also descend 
for a considerable space, rises again in the form of a 
steep conical hill, along the sides of which climb the 
rugged walls of the castle. This hill and the keep 
which surrounds it are thickly overgrown at the top 
with underwood, which only creeps round the foot of 
the towers and walls. Behind, however, rise gigan- 
tic, venerable trees, towering above all the rock-like 
structure. Their bare stems seem to float in upper 
air; while at the very summit of the building rises a 
daring bridge, set, as it were, on either side within 



ii8 aLan^scape Hrcbftecture 

trees; and as the clouds drift across the blue sky, the 
broadest and most brilliant masses of light break 
magically from under the towering arch and the dark 
coronet of trees. . . . You must imagine the river at a 
great depth below the castle plain, and not visible 
from the point I have been describing. The first 
sight of it you catch is from the castle windows, 
together with the noble park, whose lines of wood 
blend on every side with the horizon. You ascend 
from the court to the dwelling rooms by only a few 
steps, first through a passage, and thence into a hall, 
on each side of which extend the entertaining rooms 
in an unbroken line of three hundred and forty feet. 
Although almost *de plein pied' with the court, 
these rooms are more than fifty feet above the Avon, 
which flows on the other side. From eight to four- 
teen feet of thickness of wall forms, in each window 
recess, a complete closet, with the most beautiful 
varied view over the river, wildly foaming below, 
and farther on flowing through the park in soft wind- 
ings till lost in the dim distance. " 

Note how the location of this castle fits in, adapts 
itself to the surrounding scenery and dominates and 
seems to own it all. It also shows how important the 
site of the building and how the most careful study 
should be given to its placing. 

It may be truly said that the landscape can be just 
as well fitted to the building by a proper display of 
landscape-gardening ability as the building fitted to the 



Xocation ot Buil^fngs 119 

landscape by the architect. Each one is needed to help 
the other; for in actual experience it is often found 
that a change of fifty feet will greatly improve the ap- 
pearance of the house as well as that of the landscape 
as seen from the house. 

In order to further realize the significance of what 
has been said in this chapter on the important subject 
of the location of buildings one instinctively remembers 
Haddon Hall. Take it altogether, Haddon Hall has 
come to be recognized by many of the best judges as 
the finest, although by no means the largest or most 
expensive, country seat in England. Most people in- 
stinctively prefer it to Versailles or the Italian villas, 
but it may be said that is a matter of taste, though good 
taste should naturally have a basis on acknowledged 
precedents of good art. In this respect Haddon has a 
great advantage in its setting. This all will concede 
is most admirable. It rests pleasantly on the gentle 
slope of a sidehill. On one side is a simple and broad 
terrace backed by the most wonderful beeches, which, 
standing in just the position they occupy, enhance the 
beauty and dignity of the house tenfold. Passing down 
the steps of the terrace one sees wide simple stretches 
of soft pastoral English landscape which is certainly 
the most beautiful in the world. The trees and grass 
spaces seem to love each other and the house rests 
quietly in the midst of them like a rare jewel. 



VI 

GRASS SPACES 

WHAT the gold backgrounds of the old masters, 
which set out the sweet, lovable faces of 
madonnas and saints in so ideal a manner, 
are to religious pictures, green luxuriant grass spaces 
are to a landscape. They are, as it were, the canvas 
of nature painting, the playground where the sun 
disports an element of brightness which sets out the 
whole landscape."' 

By grass spaces, something more is meant than is 
usually understood by the term lawn. All the little 
comers and nooks of greensward are included, the 
glades edged with flowers and planted with trees and 
shrubs, the grass walks in the gardens and along the 
boundaries of plantations, the rides through woodland 
ways where saddle horse and carriage may find pleasant 
passage. These grass spaces are the choice spots of 
the place. It is there that the clouds play with their 
lights and shadows and the showers make diamond 
and silver nettings. No building that can be avoided, 

' Hints on Landscape Gardening, Prince Piickler. 

120 



Grass Spaces 121 

01 that can be placed elsewhere, should usurp any part 
of this stretch of green. If the ancients worshipped 
trees and groves, surely, in the landscape scheme, it 
should be considered desecration, a treading on holy 
ground, to unnecessarily destroy greensward that 
flourishes in a favoured and fitting spot. 

The illustration is taken from Central Park and its 
value lies in its open character. The eye revels in 
the rich green turf, passes with pleasure over the hill 
into the unknown with few trees, some of them just 
peering over the hill and thus disclosing a considerable 
declivity on the other side. To make these grass spaces 
illustrations of excellence the art of the skilful gardener 
needs employment for grading, and the principles of 
this art will be considered later. But for the benefit 
of those who may wish some general instructions con- 
cerning the establishment of a lawn it should be said 
that high culture is as necessary for grass space as for 
any other kind of vegetation natural to this climate. 
It is the fine pulverizing of the first two or three inches 
of the soil intended for a lawn that counts most. Deep 
ploughing or trenching and drainage are indispensable, 
but the aim should be to treat the cultivation of the 
top surface of the lawn very much as an onion patch. 

Next comes the establishment of the proper mechani- 
cal condition and the fertility of the soil, possibly the 
most important of all in the attainment of final success. 
It is not necessary in a book of this character to indicate 
m detail peculiarities of soil, but only to point out that 
grass spaces need for their most perfect development 



122 Xan^scape BrcF^itecture 

nitrogenous fertilizers from natural sources, organic 
products like humus, stable or cow or sheep manure, 
as distinguished from superphosphates of lime, potash, 
and bone meal: these latter fertilizers are best suited 
to orchards, and for vegetables that grow quickly in 
one season. There is a valuable quality peculiar to 
stable manure of the right kind in its full strength that 
exactly suits the lawn, but the difficulty is to get such 
manure. It is either burned (fire-fanged) from neglect 
to turn it over and stir it up at the proper time, or it is 
mixed with poisonous disinfectants or sawdust or a 
superabundant amount of straw. So much for manure 
secured in the city. In the country no one wants to 
sell manure, especially the farmer who has use for all 
he can make. Consequently it is a good idea to make 
a storage place for all kinds of organic matter as well 
as ordinary manure and treat it with water and stir 
it and turn it over and drain it into a vat and thus 
develop and preserve its strength for future use. If 
stable manure is not available a good substitute for it 
is decomposed muck dried and pulverized and 
aerated. 

As nature is apt to accomplish such work better and 
cheaper than man, it is a good idea to use a top dressing 
of muck soil taken from fields that have been used for 
trucking vegetables. This material when dried should 
contain about 80 per cent, humus with at least 3^^ per 
cent, ammonia. The ash or remainder should be 
mainly silica and lime and a minimum of .35 per cent. 



Grass Spaces 123 

phosphoric acid and 40 per cent, potash. This, of 
course, may vary somewhat and still make a good top 
dressing. 

Sandy ground as well as worn out ground Is also 
greatly benefited by the application of a clay loam 
taken from good grass land or where crops have already 
thriven. The clay content of such loam should vary 
from 25 to 50 per cent., of the whole. This treatment 
may be said to be indispensable, in a way more so than 
manuring, to get the best results. Moreover, it should 
always be kept in mind that the problem is continually 
varying according to the nature of the special spot of 
land under consideration. 

The use of clay, sand, lime, and stable manure or 
humus may seem to involve considerable expense. 
But their value for the establishment of a good lawn is 
great. If the foundations of a lawn are not well es- 
tablished by drainage and by cultivation and by enrich- 
ing with a top dressing of clay soil or sand or manure, 
it will be comparatively useless to sow grass seed. 
These underlying principles of treatment of the soil 
need application first to give value to the skill displayed 
afterwards in carrying out such work. 

"The ingredients in the soil may be divided into 
two classes: ist, the purely mineral matters; 2d, the 
organic ingredients constituting the humus. 

"There is a vast difference in the fertility of a 
sandy and a garden soil. Sandy soil may contain 



124 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

all the necessary mineral matters, but it lacks the 
something needed for plant growth which the garden 
soil contains. This something is called humus, an 
element rather difficult to define and still more diffi- 
cult to describe in chemical terms. It is abundant 
in fertile soil, but scarce or wanting in barren soil. 
Though its chemical value is too complex to be 
stated or even known, its origin is easy to understand. 
"Humus is the remains of life of previous genera- 
tions. When plants die, their roots, together with 
their leaves, branches, and fruits, inevitably become 
incorporated into the soil. Animals, too, leave upon 
the ground a quantity of excrement and other dis- 
charges; and plants likewise probably discharge 
excretions into the soil. When animals die their 
bodies, also, may become mixed with the earth. 
Thus practically all kinds of organic matter from 
animals and plants are being mixed continually with 
mineral ingredients in the surface layers of the soil. 
The micro-organisms in the soil feed upon these 
dead materials, causing an extensive series of de- 
compositions and recombinations. To this mass of 
complex organic bodies undergoing decomposition 
in the soil has been given the name humus. It will 
be evident from this explanation of its origin that 
humus cannot have a definite composition, and that 
it will hardly be alike in any two soils. It will be 
composed of different materials to start with, and 
there will be a variety of different stages of decom- 
position. We cannot hope to find any definite com- 



(Brass Spaces 125 

position of humus, but we can study the kinds of 
decompositions and recombinations that are going 
on in it and that result in making it a suitable food 
for plants. In this study we must ever keep in mind 
the fact that dead bodies of animals and plants are 
not in condition to serve another generation of 
plants as food. We cannot feed plants upon eggs, 
or urine, or starches, or sugars. Though containing 
carbon and nitrogen in abundance, these elements 
are locked up in them out of the reach of the green 
plants, and before they can be utilized again they 
must be freed from their combinations and brought 
into simpler forms. This is accomplished by the 
micro-organisms (bacteria) in the soil. Our study 
of these changes may best be centred around the two 
chemical elements, carbon and nitrogen. 

"Farming without the aid of bacteria would be 
an impossibility, for the soil would yield no crops." ^ 

Concerning the value of humus as a fertilizer many 
authorities may be quoted besides those in the footnote. ^ 

' See Agricultural Bacteriology, H. W. Conn, Prof. Biology in 
Wesleyan University, Connecticut, U. S., 2d edition, p. 39. 

'Peat, Its Uses as Fertilizer and Fuel, S. W. Johnson, p. 90, ed. 1859. 
Also Soil, etc., by Dr. E. W. Hilgard, Professor of Agriculture in the 
University of California and Director of the California Agricultural 
Experiment Station, ed. 1907, chapter v., pp., 72, 73, 74; chapter viii., 
chapter ix. Also in Peat and Muck, etc., by Saml. W. Johnson, Pro- 
fessor of Agricultural Chemistry, Yale College, U. S., edition 1859, pp. 
67, 80, 81, 82; p. 107, Ans. 14; p. 109, Ans. 14; p. 113, Ans. 14; p- 
121, Ans. 14; p. 145, Ans. 13; Remarks, 147, Ans. 13; Remarks, 149. 
Ans. 13. Also Soils, etc., S. W. Fletcher, Professor of Horticulture, 
Michigan Agricultural College, chapter iii., pp. 60, 61, 62; chapter xiii. 



126 Xanbscape Brcbitecture 

It makes really no difference whether the clay loam 
and humus or stable manure are mixed first and then 
applied or whether the two soils are applied separately ; 
only for grass spaces they should not be mixed too deeply 
with the native soil, simply raked or harrowed two or 
three inches deep. 

Virgin soil of high quality has always been the stand- 
ard of fertility for almost any culture. The fact that 
virgin soil of high quality is rare and difficult to secure 
in most places will explain why this mixture of stable 
manure or humus and clay loam, the nearest approxi- 
mation to virgin soil to be obtained, is recommended 
for top dressing on sandy soils. With heavy clay soils 
naturally the clay loam should be left out and possibly 
sand substituted. 

Cultivation, that is aeration, is necessary for soils 
in order not only to remove acidit}^ but to give activity 
to the fertilizing agents present. It is also wise to 
use lime to correct this same acidity and add a valuable 
element to the soil. An application of lime should be 
made about once in six or seven years. The applica- 
tion should not be greater than a ton to the acre, ordi- 



chapter xii., pp. 323, 324, 327, 328, ed. 1908. Also, Soils, etc., Harry 
Snyder, pp. 113-114, 3d ed., 1908. Also Correspondence between Pro- 
fessor E. W. Hilgard and Samuel Parsons, Landscape Architect, of New 
York City, August, 1908. Also letter in 1 914 to Professor Hilgard from 
S. Parsons, stating that the fertile soil treated with humus referred to 
in their correspondence of August, 1908, and applied at that time to 
a tract of land in Central Park on the west side of the Ramble and 
east side of the West Drive near 79th Street, Transverse Road, and the 
Swedish school house has accomplished and exhibits excellent results 
at the present time. 



Orass Spaces 127 

narily not more than 600 to 1000 pounds. To a certain 
degree the acidity present should control the amount 
used. The acidity is easy to test by means of litmus 
paper and there is no great difficulty in getting humus 
or dried muck, for there are cultivated patches of such 
land in the neighbourhood of most large cities. 

Probably the most economical and best method of 
establishing the conditions most favourable for a lawn 
is the use of green crops. By spreading sufficient 
manure to make a green crop in case the soil is not rich 
enough for the purpose, a growth of legumes, like red 
clover, cow peas, vetches, and soy beans, can be readily 
secured. When this crop has grown, just before it 
reaches maturity, it should be turned under with a 
plough or spade . In this way the legumes will be enabled 
in the process of decay to add to the soil a larger amount 
of organic matter than would the non-legumes like rye, 
etc., as the legumes gather much of their nitrogen from 
the air through the agency of bacteria contained in 
their roots. This process will naturally cause a delay 
of a year or two but will eventually produce a superior 
lawn at the minimum expense. 

The appearance of the grass spaces depends naturally 
on the character of the seed used. The general practice 
of the trade in grass seed is to use a considerable vari- 
ety of kinds on the theory that in that way the exigen- 
cies of cold and drought and wet weather will be met 
more successfully, and that the turf will grow thicker 
and the roots be closer set. On the other hand, some 
prefer only three or four vigorous kinds — Kentucky or 



128 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

Canadian Blue Grass {Poa pratensis), red top {Agrostis 
vulgaris), and brown Creeping Bent Grass {Agrostis 
cajiina). To this it is generally thought best to add 
white clover, which thrives on poor soil and in dry 
weather better than the other grasses named. It 
should be said, however, that a grass sod without a 
mixture of white clover is considered by many, and 
with good reason, likely to make a more attractive 
lawn. Some go so far as to recommend the use of one 
grass only and that the strongest growing kind of a 
permanent nature like the Kentucky or Canadian 
Blue Grass, the Canadian to be preferred for sandy, soil 
and comparatively northern regions. It may be said, 
truly, that no matter how many kinds of grass seed 
are planted, the Blue Grass is likely sooner or later to 
almost entirely usurp the place of the others. 

The use of the short-lived grasses like timothy, 
rye grass, and red clover, although well suited to go 
with and succeed for a few years a grain crop, is not 
suitable for a permanent lawn. 

When the grass seed has been sown and properly 
rolled, it helps the young recently germinated seed to 
go safely through the winter to sow some grain (rye 
in autumn and oats in spring) to make what is called 

a cover crop. 

It is interesting to note how much the treatment of 
lawns nearly one hundred years ago resembles that in 
vogue at present and especially how much even in those 
days properly prepared muck, or humus, and clay loam 
as a top dressing was valued. 



(Brass Spaces 129 

"For the construction of lawns I can recommend 
the following rules, which the experience of several 
years in my neighbourhood has confirmed : 

" (i) Whether in a meadow or for a park or pleasure 
ground it is of no avail to sow only one kind of grass 
seed. With only one kind of grass, perennial or not, 
it is not possible to secure a close grass texture. 

" (2) For the first two, namely meadows and park, 
I consider the richest mixture to be the best, but 
with this proviso, that the particular kind of grass 
which experience has found to be the most suitable 
to the special soil should dominate, to the extent 
of a third to a half of the mixture. In wet ground 
the greater part timothy; for heavy soil, rye grass; 
for loam, yellow clover and French rye grass; for 
light soil, honey or velvet grass (Holcus lanatus); 
for high ground, white clover, etc. 

"(3) If the plot that is to be sown is dry, it is 
advisable to trench it twelve to eighteen inches first, 
whatever the soil may be, but the top soil must be 
spread over the surface again if the soil below is 
inferior, and a sandy soil must of course be improved 
by muck (humus) , compost, or field soil. 

"If the expense of digging trenches is too costly, 
then one must plough to at least the usual depth, 
and in most cases still deeper with a subsoil plough. 
The field so prepared should be sown (here from the 
middle of August to the middle of September) in 
rather moist weather and very thickly, and the seed 
at once well rolled in. On heavy soil it is best to 



I30 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

wait for a dry day. By the end of October the most 
beautiful green will already cover the new meadows. 
The next year they should be mown quite early, in 
order to obtain an even growth, but the seed should 
be allowed to ripen and fall to the ground, thus secur- 
ing a greater density of turf for the following year. 
Nothing more is now necessary but to roll it well 
every year after each mowing, and every three or 
four years, as may be required, to fertilize it plenti- 
fully with a compost of field soil and muck, or with 
the manure from the place from which it can be 
easiest secured. In this manner on light rye soil, 
and to the surprise of many landowners, I have pro- 
duced the most luxurious meadow, which, instead 
of giving out in ten years as was prophesied, steadily 
improved, and from a pecuniary point of view has 
proved quite a good investment, as in four years the 
capital spent on it has been repaid."' 

One important feature of the grass spaces of the 
estate or park that should be carefully looked after is 
the degree to which it is mown or cut. Like the twigs 
or ends of the branches of trees and shrubs the charm 
of the blades of grass lies in their growing tips. They 
lend grace and life to the surface of grassy spaces. By 
skilful use of the scythe or the proper adjustment of 
the mowing-machine this object can be to a certain 
degree obtained, and it is a good idea to allow the grass 
in secluded nooks, especially on estates where there is 

' Hints on Landscape Gardening, Prince Piickler, chapter vi. 



i 



Crass Spaces 131 

no public to intrude, to grow at will, flower and seed, 
and then be cut down. In most places this would not 
be advisable, but a happy medium may be contrived, 
and the grass saved from looking shaven and shorn. 
The people who use lawns often fail to gain a sufficient 
realization of the need of care in their development. 
They would not think of walking over flowers or 
beautiful dwarf foliage plants used in bedding. Just 
as much in their own way do the blades of grass need to 
be cultivated and preserved. The limitations of the 
use of the mowing-machine should be strictly main- 
tained during abnormally wet or dry weather, hot or 
cold weather, or during certain stages of growth. 
There is a colour and shade and actual grace peculiar 
to a lawn thus maintained that is of the highest impor- 
tance in landscape gardening. The use of sheep on 
lawns has its advantages, and certainly the grass will 
do well under the effects of such pasturing, and gain a 
more natural appearance, and give a more pastoral 
effect. 



VII 

ROADS AND PATHS 

FOR what is the good of a park that presents the 
same recurring picture from a few points of 
view, a park where I am never led, as by an 
invisible hand, to the most beautiful spots, seeing 
and comprehending the picture in its entirety and 
at my ease? This is the purpose of roads and paths, 
and while they should not be imnecessarily multi- 
plied, too many are better than too few. Roads and 
paths are the dumb conductors of the visitor and 
should serve in themselves to guide him easily to- 
wards every spot which could afford enjoyment. 
Roads and paths, therefore, should not be too con- 
spicuous but should be carefully laid out and concealed 
by plantations. I mean too conspicuous in the 
English sense where a property of a thousand acres 
has only one or two main roads or paths, yet the 
opposite system of our imitation English gardens, 
where often two or three adjacent paths all show the 
same points of view and lead to the same spot, is 
also very objectionable. 

"It follows from what I have said elsewhere that 
132 



IRoabs anD ipatbs 133 

the roads and paths should not run In continual 
curves like a serpent wound round a stick but should 
rather make such bends as serve a definite purpose 
easily and effectively, following as far as possible 
the natural contours of the ground. Certain aesthe- 
tic rules dictate these bends in themselves and hence 
In places obstacles must be set up where they do not 
naturally occur in order to make the graceful line 
appear natural. For instance, two curves close 
together in the same road or path seen at the same 
time do not look well. If this cannot be entirely 
avoided then a sharp turn should be relieved by a 
larger, more rounded turn and the former should 
seem justified by trees or plantations on the inner 
side, or by elevations where the road or path is 
apparently more easily led around than over them. 

"See Plate V., a, b, c, and d. If there is no ob- 
stacle the road should be allowed to run straight or 
only slightly curved, no matter what the distance. 
Wherever an obstacle appears it is better to make a 
short turn close to it than a long gradual turn for the 
sake of the so-called curve of beauty. The sharp 
turns are by far the most picturesque, especially if 
the road disappears with such a turn in the depth of 
a forest. Nor should a road running parallel with 
another be visible from it unless there is a distinct 
division of hill and valley between or a dip In the 
ground, for without this natural division two adja- 
cent paths leading in the same direction appear super- 
fluous, especially when they are on the same level, 



134 Xan^scape Hrcbttecture 

for the mind must recognize the fitness of the details 
before the eye will be satisfied by the entire picture. 
"In a landscape of wide sweep, the form given to 
the grass plots especially by the enclosing roads 
must be carefully considered. One may entirely 
spoil an extensive territory by a short piece of road 
badly arranged. I call to mind one example which 
first attracted my attention to this point. There is 
a hill in my park which extends out conspicuously 
in a wide stretch of meadow, thereby apparently 
dividing it into two equal parts. The river flows 
along this entire stretch of country and a road fol- 
lows its course. See ground plan, e. Observe par- 
ticularly the line of the ridge indicated by the shading 
in the plan, being the most conspicuous object in 
the neighbourhood, as well as the two markedly 
divided portions of the meadows which are over- 
looked by a certain building on the height. Another 
road leads to this building along the upper side and 
for the sake of convenience I required a footpath 
connecting the two roads which had to be at the 
left side leading to the castle. I first laid it down as 
in Plate V., e, where the ascent is easiest, this being 
the line it would follow in accordance with ordinary 
rules, yet I was never satisfied with it and although 
I changed the line ten times, the path persisted in 
spoiling the harmony of the view until it finally 
occurred to me that since the hill once for all conspic- 
uously divided the prospect in two almost symmetri- 
cal portions, the path interrupting the stretch of 




A Diagram Showing the Planting Scheme for Trees and Shrubs. 










i^ai^jgmm^^j 



A Diagram Showing Different Arrangement of Paths. 
From Piickler's Atlas, 1834. 



lRoat)s anb patbs 135 

meadow would have to follow the same direction so 
as not to destroy the harmony, or, if I may say so, 
the balance of the picture; for there is a certain kind 
of undefined, hidden symmetry in which there is no 
contradiction whatever, but which must be evident 
in every expanded arrangement of this kind, in 
order to produce a satisfactory effect. As soon as 
I changed the line of the path in agreement with 
this principle, — see x, — the matter was arranged satis- 
factorily. It may take a practised eye to understand 
this point on the plan, but the advantages gained 
by the change may be perceived by any one on the 
ground. 

"Drives should be laid out so that chief points 
of interest and the most noteworthy objects in the 
entire park may be visited one after another without 
passing the same object twice, at least not in the 
same direction, on the round trip. This problem 
is frequently a peculiar one to solve; I may say I 
have given a good example in my park and it has 
cost me almost as much labour as the building of 
labyrinths may have cost our ancestors. The foot- 
paths also must run into one another with this end 
in view, affording many separate paths, apparently 
undesigned, which should be connected together so 
as to leave a wide latitude of choice. Where one 
or several of the main roads or paths through the 
park are intended to serve as an approach (as it is 
called in English) to the castle or dwelling house, 
it should be concealed for a time to make the road 



136 XanDscape Hrcbftecture 

appear long and more extended; but once the desti- 
nation has come into view it is not well to allow the 
road to turn off any more unless there be a mountain 
or lake or other palpable obstacle for which the road 
must deviate." ^ 

In Hints on Landscape Gardening, Prince Puckler 
also gives instructions relating to the construction of 
paths and roads and it is surprising how much the 
principles of the method recommended resemble those 
in vogue at the present day. But the construction of 
roads is an engineering problem and should be left to 
the engineer just as the architecture should be under 
the control of the architect. 

A primary principle of road and path designing is to 
approach the subject with an instinctive sense that all 
roads and paths should be left out of the scheme as 
much as the exigencies of landscape effect ari,d conven- 
ience will allow. In themselves they have no beauty, 
rather otherwise, hence wherever grass walks, or rides, 
or drives will suffice they are preferable on account of 
their unobtrusiveness. For the same reason their width 
should be minimized as much as the actual limitations 
of the situation will permit. It is hardly possible to 
give advice on the question of width, or as to the em- 
ployment of grass for walks and drives, it is so entirely 
a question of wear and tear, of the number of vehicles, 
horses, and human beings who will be likely to use them. 

The question of the character of the gutters is an 

'^ Hints on Landscape Gardening, Prince Puckler. 



IRoa^s an& patbs 137 

important one, because, as generally constructed of 
stone, they are one of the least attractive features in 
the lawn or park. The best form they can take is that 
of grass or sod gutters which can be made almost im- 
perceptible by keeping the centre of the drive or walk 
high in relation to the surrounding lawn. In order to 
insure success wdth these grass gutters, the drainage of 
the road or walk needs skilful treatment. If good 
drainage be secured and the centre of the walk or drive 
kept high the sod gutter can be constructed so shallow 
as to be hardly perceptible in the grass. 

Another important suggestion in designing a road or 
walk is to avoid leaving little triangles or islands of 
grass or trees or shrubs, or all three, at the junctions of 
their several courses. It seldom makes a desirable 
effect, and is usually the result of a hasty or unintel- 
ligent solution of the problem. An open space even 
for a turn in front of the house is better suited to the 
general effect than if the road is carried round a formal 
oval of grass. Such a space moreover is certainly 
better suited for turning all kinds of vehicles. The 
road should also always pari passu enter the estate or 
park at right angles. The scene opens out in better 
shape, and one enters the place with equal ease, without 
a sharp turn, from whatever direction one is coming. 
The straight part should continue at least fifty feet 
into the property before it curves at all. 

It has been already shown that all reverse curves in 
a road or path should be avoided, unless obstacles 
exist like a tree or large stone or building to evidently 



138 Xau&scape Hrcbitecture 

require its deviation from its natural sweep, but a 
further caution should be given to be careful not to 
make the artifice of placing a rock to excuse a curve too 
evident. The recourse to such obvious devices would 
tend to make the road take on a formality and same- 
ness which would very likely be much worse than the 
most rigidly formal design of walks with straight lines 
and circles. The latter would start out with a distinct 
and entirely defensible purpose if it were located in 
the right portion of the place. A badly related, in- 
congruous design is possibly the worst kind of land- 
scape gardening and yet it prevails largely because 
the person who really controls the layout of the place 
probably fails to appreciate the difficulties involved 
and the necessity of basing the work on well conceived 
and definite principles. 

Because the road or path is not in itself beautiful 
does not prevent the most attractive rural incidents 
from clustering along the borders. Mr. Olmsted ex- 
presses the same idea when he writes as follows in the 
Mt. Royal Park Report : 

"Taking then, as an illustration, a road (because it 
is the most unavoidably conspicuous artificial thing 
that you must have), you will have been compelled 
at various points by the topography to so lay it 
out, [that] though slightly curving, its course is open to 
view and excessively prominent far ahead, dissect- 
ing, distracting the landscape. Planting trees close 
upon the road, they must either be trimmed too high 



1Roa&s an& patbs 139 

to serve as a screen to its course ahead, or their 
limbs will in time obstruct passage upon the road. 
Your resort then must be bushes of species chosen 
with reference to the heights and breadth of foliage 
they will ultimately develop, with a view to the range 
of vision of observers in carriages. If there is a walk 
following the road it should, in such cases, be so far 
divided from it as to give room for the required bank 
of low foliage between it and the wheelway." 

Messrs. Olmsted and Vaux made a joint report to be 
found in the Sixth Annual Brooklyn Park Reports (page 
97), and they thus express their ideas on roads and 
paths: 

"To illustrate the practical application of these 
views, we will take one of the many classes of ar- 
rangements for the accommodation of the move- 
ments of the public through a park, the drives or 
carriageway, and consider what is required of it. 
A drive must be so prepared that those using it 
shall be called upon for the least possible judgment 
as to the course to be pursued, the least possible 
anxiety or exercise of skill in regard to collisions or 
interruptions with reference to objects animate and 
inanimate, and that they shall as far as possible 
be free from the disturbance of noise and jar. To 
secure those negative qualities, the course of the 
road must be simple; abrupt turns must be avoided; 
steep grades that would task the horses or suggest 



140 Xanbscape Hrcbftecture 

that idea must not be encountered. The possibiH- 
ties of the road becoming miry must be securely 
guarded against; its surface must also be smooth 
and be composed of compact material. These being 
the first and essential engineering considerations, it 
is necessary, secondly, that they should be secured 
in a manner which shall be compatible with the pre- 
sentation of that which is agreeable to the eye in 
the surrounding circumstances; that is to say, the 
drive must either run through beautiful scenery 
already existing, or to be formed, and for this pur- 
pose it may be desirable at any point to deviate from 
the line which an engineer would be bound to choose 
as that which would best meet the first class of re- 
quirements. It must also be remembered that 
although the drive can hardly be expected in itself 
to add to the beauty of the scenery, it must always 
be more or less in view as part of it, and it should, 
therefore, be artistically designed so as to interfere 
as little as possible with the views and to present 
at all points agreeable and harmonious lines to the 
eye. Moreover, as it is desirable that at some point 
in the course of a drive through every park there 
should be an opportunity for those in carriages to 
see others and be seen by others, some portion of the 
ground which by development of natural suggestions 
cannot be made readily attractive to the eye should be 
chosen for the purpose. And here it will be proper 
that the application of art to inanimate nature as in 
architectural objects and by festive decorations of the 



.■;;;tK 










H 









IRoa^s anD patF)s 141 

outlines of the drive itself should distinctly invite 
attention and aid to produce a general suggestion 
of sympathy with human gaiety and playfulness." 

The device is a good one of arranging roads and paths 
so that they may make decided turns when they reach 
some tree, or group of shrubs and trees, and thus find 
an excuse for turning and securing that short curve 
followed by a long curve which Prince Piickler so much 
prefers to the exactly repeated reverse, "the line of 
beauty" as it has been termed. This advice is doubt- 
less excellent when the object exists around which to 
turn, but some go farther and advise the placing of 
trees and shrubs at points where turns would be de- 
sirable; and this again is not bad advice, provided the 
trees would be well placed if the road did not run there. 

The ideal line for a road to approach the house is in 
one single sweep, but the limitations of trees and shrubs, 
convenience, and the opening out to view other scenes 
which present themselves often prevent this. On the 
same principle the road should approach the house on 
the least attractive side, that of the outbuildings and 
farming territory, leaving the secluded and most beau- 
tiful outlook in front of the living-rooms of the house, 
the dining-room, and library. All things being equal, 
the drive should reach the house on the side where the 
flower garden and vegetable garden are situated, and 
give an undisturbed pastoral effect to the lawn on the 
far side. 

The illustration "The Trosachs" shows why a 



142 Xant)scapc Hrcbitecture 

road winding away from the eye through park or wild 
woodland gives so much pleasure. The eye loses the 
drive around a graceful curve and as one moves along 
bits of road and scenery keep opening ahead and one 
wonders what is coming next. Change and surprise 
form important elements of pleasure in landscape 
gardening. 

If conditions, however, force or strongly suggest the 
use of a straight road, there is no rule of good taste 
that should prevent its employment. The trees along 
its borders should be of a character and size that will 
give it dignity, but at the same time there should be 
a diversity of the grading or topography of the lawn 
nearby, and above all a pleasing variety of shrubs 
between a number, though not necessarily all, of the 
trees. To leave open spaces at intervals, provided the 
views there are attractive, would be an advantage. 

The illustration shown of the straightaway road on 
the east of Central Park indicates how such an arrange- 
ment can be made agreeable in cramped and uninterest- 
ing conditions, and the same rule applies to paths or 
walks. Curving paths are the most agreeable to the 
eye, but if the dignity or exigencies of the place require 
it, there is no reason why the straight ones should not 
be used. It is well to remember that to make a straight 
path among curved ones may seriously disturb the 
harmony of the entire scene, but the straight path in 
the illustration of Lovers' Lane in Central Park shows 
that the scene can be so diversified by planting as to pre- 
vent the formality from marring the beauty of the scene. 



VIII 

WATER 

"T~^VEN if fresh and clear water (whether 
I stream or lake) is not so indispensable to 

landscape as a rich vegetation, it greatly 
increases its charm. Eye and ear are equally de- 
lighted, for who does not hearken with delight to the 
sweet murmur of the brook, the distant plashing of 
the mill wheels, the prattling of the pearly spring — 
who has not been enchanted in quiet hours by 
the perfect calm of the slumbering lake in which the 
giants of the forest are dreamily mirrored, or the 
aspect of foaming waves, chased by the storm, where 
the sea-gulls merrily rock? But it is very difficult 
for the artist to conquer nature here, or to impose 
on her what she herself has not created on the spot. 
"Therefore, I would advise rather to leave undone 
altogether a faulty imitation. A region without 
water can yet present many beauties, but a stinking 
swamp infects everyone; the first is only a negative 
fault, the second a positive, and with the exception 
of the owner himself nobody will take a cesspool of 
this kind for a lake, or a stagnant ditch overgrown 

143 



144 Xanbscape Hrcbitectuie 

with duckweed for a stream. But if one can by 
any means guide a running stream into the domain 
of one's own property, if the terrain gives any pro- 
spect of it, one should do one's utmost, and forego 
neither expense nor pains to acquire such a great 
advantage, for nothing offers such an endless variety 
to the beholder as the element of water. 

"But in order to give the water, artificially ob- 
tained, whatever form it may take, a natural, un- 
forced appearance, much trouble is necessary. In the 
whole art of landscape gardening, perhaps nothing 
is more difficult to accomplish. 

' ' Several of the rules which I have given for laying 
out the roads and for the outlines of the plantations 
can be readily applied to the shape of the water 
effects. As in the former case one can, according to 
the requirements of the terrain and the obstacles 
that occur, bring in sometimes long and sometimes 
short, abrupt bends, making, for preference, rounded 
comers rather than semicircles, sometimes even 
quite sharp turns where the water is visibly diverted. 
Both banks of a stream or brook should follow fairly 
parallel lines, yet with various nuances, which must 
be decided not according to one's fancy, but by the 
laws determined by its course. Two rules hold 
good almost universally: 

"i. The side towards which the stream turns 
should have a lower shore than the opposite, because 
the higher one diverts it. 

"2. Where the current of the w^ater suddenly be- 



Mater 145 

comes swift and yet needs to be turned aside lest it 
break bounds if left free, a sharp bend should be 
constructed rather than a round one and a steeper 
shore should signify the conflict. But never follow 
what our gardeners call 'noble lines.' I suppose 
the terrain to be the same in both cases. The old 
practice would give the line of the stream as illus- 
trated in a; the student of nature will try to make it 
something like h. 

"Frequently, larger and smaller promontories, as 
well as deep bays, tend to give the scene a natural 
appearance, and it is equally effective to vary the 
height and form of the crown or upper part of the 
shore. One must be careful to avoid high finish in 
constructing the slope of the shore in such a way as 
to betray the artificial work. 

"An exception to this may be made in the case of 
the pleasure ground, but here also it would be well 
to strike a middle course between nature and culti- 
vation. See c for the stiff and d for the more natural 
bare shore, e for the advantages of variety in the 
shores on both sides. The plantation supplies what 
is still lacking and completes the whole by the free 
play of the overhanging branches. It would hardly 
be possible to give an entirely natural appearance 
to an artificial shore without a plantation. 

"If one would like a larger, more lakelike expanse 
of water, which is especially desirable in the view from 
the mansion, one should so treat it, partly by means 
of islands, partly by very deep bays, the limits of 



146 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

which are mostly concealed in shrubbery, that from 
no one point the whole mass of water can be over- 
looked, but that everywhere behind the thick shrub- 
bery the water appears to flow onward; otherwise, 
every piece of water will appear small, even though 
it take an hour to walk round it. Open, grassy 
shores, single high trees, woods and thickets should 
vary the effect with broad spots where the sunlight 
can have full entry in order not to deprive the water 
of its transparency and brillancy by concealment. 
A lake whose shores are entirely in shadow loses 
much of its effectiveness, as the water reveals all its 
magic only under the full rays of the sun where the 
reflections from above appear to come from the bot- 
tom in transparent silvery clearness. I have fre- 
quently seen this very necessary rule quite ignored 
by unskilful gardeners. The projecting tongues of 
land must for the greater part run into pointed, not 
rounded, ends, for I cannot sufficiently dwell on the 
fact that no line in picturesque landscape is more 
unpropitious than that taken from the circle, espe- 
cially in any great extent of space. A green shore 
which ends quite in a point and is at its termination 
almost in the same line as the water, and beyond which 
the water appears on the other side, makes quite a 
charming variety, especially when a few high-stemmed 
trees stand on it, and where one looks through under 
the foliage. If any important object is in the neigh- 
bourhood of a building, mountain, or conspicuous 
tree, plenty of room should be given for its reflection 



Mater 147 

in the water, and attention drawn to the picture 
shimmering in its depths by a path or bench placed 
there for the purpose. 

"The form/ is by no means the worst which I have 
seen carried out, nor will I say that g is the best for 
execution; but the latter will assuredly make a more 
picturesque effect, and from no point of view will the 
end of the water be visible, which is one of the chief 
considerations." ^ 

The interesting part of the above dissertation is that 
Prince Piickler carried out his principles and directions, 
as they are here set forth, in an entirely successful 
manner on his own estate at Muskau, where the results 
can be seen to-day after the lapse of nearly a century. 

Not long before the time of Prince Piickler we find 
Humphry Repton in The Art of Landscape Gardening 
expressing the following sound views on the subject of 
the use of water in the landscape: 

"The general cause of a natural lake or expanse 
of water is an obstruction to the current of the stream 
by some ledge or stratum of rock which it cannot 
penetrate, but as soon as the water has risen to the 
surface of the rock, it tumbles over with great fury, 
wearing itself a channel among the craggy fragments 
and generally forming an ample basin at the foot. 
Such is the scenery we must attempt at Thorsby. 

"When under the guidance of Le Notre and his 

' Hints on Landscape Gardening, Prince Piickler, 



148 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

disciples the taste for nature in landscape gardening 
was totally banished or concealed by the work of 
art. Now in defining the shape of land or water, 
we take nature for our model, and the highest per- 
fection of landscape gardening is to imitate nature 
so judiciously that the influence of art shall never be 
detected." 

However satisfactory we may find the words of 
Prince P tickler and Humphry Repton on the subject 
of the use of water in landscape gardening, the excellent 
and extended study of Thomas Whately on similar 
lines should not be overlooked. It conveys much 
valuable advice: 

"So various are the characters which water can 
assume, that there is scarcely an idea in which it 
may not concur, or an impression which it cannot 
enforce : a deep, stagnated pool, dank and dark with 
shades which it dimly reflects, befits the seat of 
melancholy; even a river, if it be sunk between two 
dismal banks and dull both in motion and colour, is 
like a hollow eye which deadens the countenance; 
and over a sluggard, silent stream creeping heavily 
along all together, hangs a gloom, which no art can 
dissipate nor even the sunshine disperse. A gently 
murmuring rill, clear and shallow, just gurgling, 
just dimpling, imposes silence, suits with solitude, 
and leads to meditation: a brisker current which 
wantons in little eddies over a bright sandy bottom. 




u 

O 

^ -is' 



o ^ 



w 



Mater 149 

or babbles among pebbles, spreads cheerfulness all 
around; a greater rapidity and more agitation to a 
certain degree are animating ; but in excess, instead of 
wakening, they alarm the senses : the roar and the rage 
of a torrent, its force, its violence, its impetuosity, tend 
to inspire terror; that terror which, whether as cause 
or effect, is so nearly allied to sublimity. . . . But 
it is not necessary that the whole scene be bounded: 
if form be impressed on a considerable part, the eye 
can, without disgust, permit a large reach to stretch 
beyond its ken; it can even be pleased to observe a 
tremulous motion in the horizon, which shows that 
the water has not there attained its termination. 
Still short of this, the extent may be kept in uncer- 
tainty ; a hill or a wood may conceal one of the extrem- 
ities, and the country beyond it, in such a manner 
as to leave room for the supposed continuation of so 
large a body of water. Opportunities to choose 
this shape are frequent, and it is the most perfect of 
any: the scene is closed, but the extent of the lake 
is undetermined : a complete form is exhibited to the 
eye, while a boundless range is left open to the im- 
agination. But mere form will only give content, 
not delight ; that depends upon the outline, which is 
capable of exquisite beauty; and the bays and the 
creeks and the promontories, which are ordinary 
parts of that outline, together with the accidents of 
islands, of inlets and of outlets to rivers, are in their 
shapes and their combinations an inexhaustible fund 
of variety. A straight line of considerable length 



I50 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

may find a place in that variety, and it is sometimes 
of singular use to prevent the semblance of a river 
in a channel formed between islands and the shore. 
But no figure perfectly regular ought ever to be 
admitted; it always seems artificial, unless the size 
absolutely forbids the supposition. A semicircular 
bay, though the shape be beautiful, is not natural; 
and any rectilinear figure is absolutely ugly; but if 
one line be curved, another may sometimes be al- 
most straight; the contrast is agreeable; and to 
multiply the occasions of showing contrasts may 
often be a reason for giving several directions to a 
creek and more than two sides to a promontory. 

"Bays, creeks, and promontories, though extremely 
beautiful, should not, however, be very numerous, 
for a shore broken into little points and hollows has 
no certainty of outline, it is only ragged not diversi- 
fied; and the distinctness and simplicity of the great 
parts are hurt by the multiplicity of subdivisions: 
but islands, though the channels between them be 
narrow, do not so often derogate from greatness; 
they intimate a space beyond them whose boundaries 
do not appear; and remove to a distance the shore 
which is seen in perspective between them. Such 
partial interruptions of the sight suggest ideas of 
extent to the imagination. 

"The inlets and outlets of rivers have similar effects; 
fancy pursues the course of the stream far beyond 
the view — no limits are fixed to its excursions. The 
greatest composition of water is that which is in 



Mater 151 

part a lake, and in part a river, which has all the 
expanse of the one, and all the continuation of 
the other, each being strongly characterized to the 
very point of their junction: if that junction breaks 
into the side of the lake, the direction of the river 
should be oblique to the line it cuts — rectangular 
bisections are in this, as in all instances, formal ; but 
when the conflux is at an angle, so that the bank of 
the river coincides with one shore of the lake, they 
should both continue for some way in the same direc- 
tion; a deviation from that line immediately at the 
outlet detaches the lake from the river. 

"Though the windings of a river are proverbially 
descriptive of its course, yet without being per- 
petually wreathed, it may be natural; nor is the 
character expressed only by its turnings. On the 
contrary, if they are too frequent and sudden the cur- 
rent is reduced into a number of separate pools, and 
the idea of progress is obscured by the difficulty of 
tracing It. Length is the strongest symptom of 
continuation ; long reaches are therefore characteristic 
of a river, and they conduce much to its beauty; 
each is a considerable piece of water and a variety of 
beautiful forms may be given to their outlines, but 
a straight one can very seldom be admitted; it has 
the appearance of a cut canal, unless great breadth, 
a bridge across it, and strong contrasts between the 
objects on the banks disguise the formality. A very 
small curvature obliterates every idea of art and 
stagnation; and a greater is often mischievous; for 



152 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

an excess of deviation from a straight towards a 
circular line shortens the view, weakens the idea of 
continuation, and though not chargeable with stiff- 
ness, yet approaches to regularity; whereas the line 
of beauty keeps at a distance from every figure which 
a rule can determine or a compass describe. 

"A considerable degree of roundness is, however, 
often becoming, where the stream changes its direc- 
tion, and if the turn be effected by a sharp point of 
land on one side, there is the more occasion for cir- 
cuity on the other. The river should also be widened 
under that other bank; for it is the nature of water 
thus driven out of its course to dash and encroach 
upon the opposite shore; where this circumstance 
has been attended to, the bend appears natural ; and 
the view ending in space gives scope to the imagina- 
tion: the turn therefore ought generally to be larger 
than a right angle ; if it be less, it closes immediately, 
and checks the idea of progress. 

"Water is so universally and so deser\^edly ad- 
mitted in a prospect, that the most obvious thought 
in the management of it is to lay it as open as 
possible, and purposely to conceal it would generally 
seem a severe self-denial: yet so many beauties may 
attend its passage through a wood, that larger por- 
tions of it might be allowed to such retired scenes, 
that are commonly spared from the view, and the 
different parts in different styles would then be fine 
contrasts to each other. If the water at Wotton 
(the seat of Mr. Greville, in the vale of Aylesbury 







/</ 



■■"^^y,*M*i^>: 










A \'iew of the River as Arranged and Improved by Prince Piickler von Muskau, 

in his Park at Muskau, Silesia, German}*. 

Redrawn from an Old Print. 



T 



W^ 



0-, 



llh.!'i|hT/il!iiii;!i!; 



WflimiimipMMpiiMHMti|iin«inM 




The Boundary Fence on the Park of Prince Puckler von Aluskau, Silesia, Germany. 

Redrawn from an Old Print. 



Mater 153 

in Buckinghamshire) were all exposed, a walk of near 
two miles along the banks would be of a tedious length 
from the want of those changes of the scene, which 
now supply through the whole extent a succession 
of perpetual variety. That extent is so large as to 
admit of a division into four principal parts, all of 
them great in style and in dimensions; and differing 
from each other both in character and situation. 
The two first are the least; the one is a reach of a 
river, about a third of a mile in length, and a com- 
petent breadth, flowing through a lovely mead, open 
in some places to views of beautiful hills in the coun- 
try, and adorned in others with clumps of trees, so 
large that their branches stretch quite across, and 
form a high arch over the water. The next seems 
to have been once a formal basin encompassed with 
plantations; and the appendages on either side still 
retain some traces of regularity ; but the shape of the 
water is free from them; the size is about fourteen 
acres ; and out of it issue two broad collateral streams, 
winding towards a large river, which they are seen 
to approach, and supposed to join. A real junction 
is, however, impossible, from the difference of the 
levels, but the terminations are so artfully concealed 
that the deception is never suspected; and when 
known is not easily explained. The river is the 
third great division of the water; a lake into which 
it falls is the fourth. These two do actually join; 
but their characters are directly opposite; the scenes 
they belong to are totally distinct ; and the transition 



154 Xant)scape Hrcbitecture 

from one to the other is very gradual, for an island 
near the conflux, dividing the breadth, and conceal- 
ing the end of the lake, moderates for some way the 
space, and permitting it to expand but by degrees, 
raises an idea of greatness, from uncertainty accom- 
panied with increase. The reality does not disap- 
point the expectation; and the island which is the 
point of view is itself equal to the scene; it is large 
and high above the lake; the ground is irregularly 
broken; thickets hang on the sides; and towards the 
front is placed an Ionic portico which commands a 
noble extent of water, not less than a mile in circum- 
ference, bounded on one side with wood, and open on 
the other to two sloping lawns, the least of a hund- 
red acres, diversified with clumps, and bordered by 
plantations; yet this lake when full in view and with 
all the importance which space, form, and situation 
can give, is not more interesting than the sequestered 
river, which has been mentioned as the third great 
division of the water. It is just within the verge of 
a wood, three quarters of a mile long, everywhere 
broad, and its course is such as to admit of infinite 
variety, without any confusion. The banks are 
clear of underwood; but a few thickets still remain; 
on one side an impenetrable covert soon begins; the 
interval is a beautiful grove of oaks, scattered over 
a greensward of extraordinary verdure. Between 
these trees and these thickets the river seems to 
glide gently along, constantly winding, without one 
short turn, or one extended reach, in the whole 



Mater 155 

length of the way. The even temper in the stream 
suits the scenes through which it passes; they are in 
general of a very sober cast; not melancholy, but 
grave ; never exposed to a glare ; never darkened with 
gloom; nor by strong contrasts of light and shade 
exhibiting the excess of either; undisturbed by an 
excess of prospects without, or a multiplicity of 
objects within, they retain at all times a mildness 
of character which is still more forcibly felt when 
the shadows grow faint as they lengthen ; when a little 
rustling of birds in the spray, the leaping of the fish, 
and the fragrancy of the woodbine denote the ap- 
proach of evening; while the setting sun shoots its 
last gleams on a Tuscan portico, which is close to 
the great basin, but which from a seat near this river 
is seen at a distance, through all the obscurity of the 
wood, glowing on the banks, and reflected on the 
surface of the water." 
Here are good words about flowers on the waterside : 

"One beautiful way in which flowers can be used, 
especially those distinguished for the brightness and 
clearness of their colouring, or for their tall stalks, 
is to plant them in moss and among wild vegetation 
along the edge of a brook or some other piece of 
water. The reflections in the water and the play 
of their movements thus doubled clothed with a new 
charm this scene which is altogether natural."^ 

Throughout all these quotations, however, no one 

' Hirschfeld's Theorie der Garden Kunst, Leipzig, 1777. 



156 XanDscape Hrcbitecturc 

dwells on the importance of the margin, the lip of the 
shore of a stream, or a lake, or a pool. Landscape 
gardening can display no greater skill than the work 
that can be done in varying the line which touches the 
water with myriads of changes even in small ways so 
that the eye is continually diverted. It is so that 
nature works, and we will see it, if we observe with 
seeing eyes. Here a secret cove with pond lilies and 
water plants, there a point on which grows, with its 
roots in the water, a fine tree, a scarlet maple or a wil- 
low, or perhaps it is a rock all moss-grown. The grass — 
not cement under any circumstances — on the edge of an 
open lawn coming down to the water may sink its feet 
directly in the pool or stream, where its green will be 
reflected in the most charming manner. There is no 
end to the effects; all kinds of drooping shrubs may 
hang the ends of their curving branches in the water, 
and trees and shrubs redouble their beauty by their re- 
flected images. Rushes may gather along the banks, and 
irises thrust themselves beyond the margin. Beaches 
of sand and gravel should also find places where they 
would naturally assume shape and remain quiescent 
until some freshet comes along. It is the end, the 
margin, the border, the tip of everything that counts 
above all things in the landscape picture. The margin 
of the shrub groups, the shore line we have termed it, 
gives the lawn its true value in the scene: the tips of 
the branches of the shrubs and trees mark their charac- 
ter in most cases more than anything else, and make 
much of their charm and beauty. It is for this reason, 



Mater 157 

if for no other, that shearing of shrubs seems an unkind 
proceeding. 

In the same way, we should seek to touch and beau- 
tify the very edge and margins of our water spaces on 
nature's Hnes, with all the devices of horticulture. 
Such refinements of landscape gardening are after all 
the supreme result to be sought, for it is these seemingly 
minor things, these small touches, that make for per- 
fection. Again the warning should be reiterated that 
all sense of effort, all fussiness, should be avoided, and 
simple and relatively large effects alone sought. Above 
all, any attempt to exhibit variety of plant forms as 
horticultural curiosities is specially objectionable. 

Water used in the form of fountains should find no 
place on an estate or park except in the midst of some 
architectural development, among trees if possible, 
in a portico, a court, a plaza or esplanade, or in some 
stately garden in connexion with buildings. Water- 
falls, cascades, rapids, that dash and resound and trickle 
and murmur, and swing and sweep, and in so many 
ways delight the eye and ear, are desirable above most 
landscape-gardening effects ; but the attempt to produce 
such effects had better be limited to places where water 
features already exist, and dash and trickle of their 
own volition. A rock can be added here, and a plant 
there, or a shrub and tree, and greatly increase the 
attractions. Water, plants, rocks, and soil can un- 
doubtedly be gathered together in distinctly natural 
forms that will not insult the surrounding scenery by 
their incongruities, but it will be a difficult undertaking 



158 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

and should not be attempted except after due consid- 
eration and the full recognition that failure is quite 
likely, and that the work may have to be done over 
more than once. Landscape gardening affords more 
temptations than most occupations to dream dreams 
the practical realization of which will be found almost 
if not quite impossible. 

In order to form some idea of what the construction 
of an ideal lake means the accompanying illustration 
is given of Prof. C. S. Sargent's artificial lake on his 
estate of Holm Lea, Brookline, Boston, Mass. 

"It was formed by excavating a piece of swamp 
and damming a small stream which flowed through 
it. In the distance toward the right the land lies 
low by the water and gradually rises as it recedes. 
Opposite us it forms little wooded promontories 
with grassy stretches between. Where we stand it 
is higher, and beyond the limits of the picture to the 
left it forms a high steep bank rising to the lawn on 
the farther side of which stands the house. The 
base of these elevated banks and the promontories 
opposite are planted with thick masses of rhododen- 
drons, which flourish superbly in the moist peaty 
soil, protected as they are from drying winds by the 
trees and high ground. Near the low meadow a 
long stretch of shore is occupied with thickets of 
hardy azaleas. Beautiful at all seasons, the pond 
is most beautiful in June when the rhododendrons 
are ablaze with crimson and purple and white and 



Mater 159 

when the yellow of the azalea beds — discreetly sepa- 
rated from the rhododendrons by a great clump of 
low-growing willows — finds delicate continuation in 
the buttercups that fringe the daisied meadows. 
The lifted banks then afford particularly fortunate 
points of view: for as we look down upon the rhodo- 
dendrons, we see the opposite shore and the water 
with its rich reflected colours as over the edge of a 
splendid frame. No accent of artificiality disturbs 
the eye despite the unwonted profusion of bloom and 
variety of colour. All the plants are suited to the 
place and in harmony with each other; and all the 
contours of the shore are gently modulated and softly 
connected with the water by luxuriant growths of 
water plants. The witness of the eye alone would 
persuade us that nature unassisted had achieved the 
whole result. But beauty of so suave and perfect 
a sort as this is never a natural product. Nature's 
beauty is wilder if only because it includes traces of 
mutation and decay which here are carefully effaced. 
Nature suggests the ideal beauty, and the artist 
realizes it by faithfully working out her suggestions." ^ 

The two views of castle and moat at Muskau are full 
of suggestions. The ancient moat has been enlarged 
in one case to a small lake with charming plantations 
of trees and shrubs on its borders, and the other, with 
the moat disappearing from the eye, appeals to the 
imagination and takes the memory back to ancient days. 

' Garden and Forest, vol. i., p. 8. 



i6o Xant)6cape Brcbitecture 

The view which shows a pool in Central Park on the 
west side near 77th Street might well be the moat of a 
feudal castle like that of Muskau, but its background 
which makes it so picturesque is simply the south-east 
tower of the Natural History Museum. There is a 
winding path that goes down to the water for the benefit 
of horseback riders who may be passing on the bridle 
path nearby. 

The view of Durham Cathedral is somewhat familiar. 
The reason for its introduction is to show how much 
water adds to the value of the view of a noble 
building. 

The water-soaked margins of our ponds and lakes 
furnish a home for many graceful, fine foliage and 
flowering plants. Necessary variations of height 
and impressiveness are made with the great Gunnera 
and the lesser heights with irises or daffodils or the 
little water-lily {NymphcEa pygmea). 

The question which we need to consider here is the 
way they should be used on the shores of the pools and 
streams of the landscape picture. We are again called 
to study the homes where such plants live nearby, on, 
or in the water, and to see where they appear to best 
advantage. An eye keenly alive to such opportunities 
for study will see many things along the banks of brooks 
and lakes that are suggestive and worth imitating 
in water planting. It will see first of all, especially 
in confined areas, pools and arms of a lake or stream, 
that there should be plenty of water surface left un- 
covered by planting. The level space is the eye of the 




The Castle and the Moat, and a View of the Park on the Estate of Prhice Piickler 

von Muskau, Silesia, Germany. 

From a Photograph by Thomas W. Sears. 




A Castle, Lake, and Moat on the Estate of Prince Piickler von Muskau. 
From a Photograph by Thomas W. Sears, Providence, R. I. 



mater i6i 

leafage of the park, — the unbroken grass space; in 
the same way the open water is the eye of the water 
picture. It gives breadth and composition to the 
scene, allows play of sunlight and reflection of leaf and 
flower in the water and brooding of shadows on its 
surface. The principles of design are the same, if one 
will only pause to consider; whether it be a woodland 
grass patch in a recess, a stream, or a great park meadow 
with shrubs and trees receding in bays or boldly thrust- 
ing themselves forward in promontories with expanse 
and freedom of level space around them. It is all a 
matter of scale — the small and the large, breadth and 
height, colour and scent, they all aspire, reach upward, 
lift, feel their strength to conquer and then give way 
and yield, until finally there is an interval of peace, of 
rest, when the smooth space stretches out to bear on its 
liquid or green bosom the sun's rays and the drifting 
shadows, to give to the open water a little quiet to 
receive the sunset's last glowing touches and to settle 
down finally into the soft odorous gloom of evening. 
Then there are the battles of the seasons, heat and cold, 
freshet, and storm wind. Even the little waterside 
flower has to fight for its life, but it, too, gains its 
victory, and rest and happiness after all the dis- 
aster. The beauty and the modesty of the river- 
side flower is not to be gainsaid in the days of its 
victory. No stately plants of the palace garden can 
surpass it in loveliness. Can any denizen of the formal 
garden surpass in charm the subject of these beautiful 
lines: 



i62 XanC)8cape Brcbitectuire 

The woodland willow stands a lonely bush 

Of nebulous gold, 
There the Spring Goddess comes in faint attire 

Of frightened fire. 

The golden willows lift 

Their boughs the sun to sift, 
Their sprays they droop to screen • 

The sky with veil of green, 
A floating cage of song 

Where feathered lovers throng. * 

The beauty and the dainty charm of plants, trees, 
and shrubs and flowers on the waterside transcends 
description. What a fascination there is in the water- 
lilies, Nuphar, Nelumbium, and Nymphsea — and it is 
not easy to locate them rightly. It needs study and 
it should not be undertaken lightly, although easy 
enough if you know how to do it. Without much 
study and observation success in managing these little 
water plants is not easy to attain. The following lines 
of Robert Bridges show a fine knowledge of the com- 
mon water-lily of lakes and streams, a knowledge of a 
kind that is often lacking in poets : 

But in the purple pool there nothing grows, 
Not the white water-lily spoked with gold, 

Though best she loves the hollows, and well knows 
On quiet streams her broad shields to unfold, 

Yet should her roots but try within these deeps to lie, 
Not her long-reaching stalk could ever hold her waxen 
head so high. ' 

' Robert Bridges, Poems, p. 307, 1912. 



-<^- rlr 




IX 

ISLANDS 

THE design and construction of islands in rivers 
and streams and lakes or ponds requires much 
study of the spot where they are to be made, 
and also the exercise of the memory to accumulate 
examples for consideration, which, though not exactly 
the same, will be helpful. 

I recall for instance a wonderful afternoon, sailing 
through the upper reaches of Lake George, New York 
State. The day was showery and as the mists gathered 
and dispersed and the sun now came out and now dis- 
appeared, the illusions of light and shade were magical. 
Islands of all sizes from a few rocks to cedar-clothed 
hills loomed up on every side and then disappeared. 
Ever changing, it was like some scene in fairyland, 
unearthly, unreal — the mind seemed transported to a 
space between lake and sky where the islands had a 
realm of their own. There were thousands of them 
and the study of how many of them were growing 
from a few rocks into larger and larger masses of 
trees, rocks, soil, and grass was most instructive, most 
illuminating. 

163 



i64 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

"Islands scattered in a large lake or judiciously 
arranged in the broad flowing river are of great 
assistance and add much to the beauty of the whole 
by their variety. Here, too, the example of nature 
must be very fully studied. It is remarkable how 
seldom this is the case and I can hardly remember 
having seen anywhere an artificial island which did 
not betray at first glance its forced, unnatural origin. 
Thus I recently found, even in the small celebrated 
royal gardens attached to Buckingham House, which 
I have highly praised elsewhere, one which repre- 
sented more the picture of a pudding in its sauce, 
than an island built up by nature. It is true that 
nature sometimes indulges in peculiar freaks, but 
there is always je ne sais quoi, which cannot be at- 
tained by mere imitation, therefore it becomes us 
to follow her rules, not her exceptions. 

"Generally, as I have said, artificial islands can be 
recognized at the first glance. Their shape is either 
oval or round, sloping down equally on all sides, (see 
Plate VII., e,) and they are planted at random in 
separate patches, see i. Nature forms them quite 
otherwise, seldom by building up, more frequently 
by erosion. For how is an island originated? First, 
either a piece of land has withstood the pressure of 
the flood by its height and solidity, see a ; or secondly, 
it has been forcibly torn asunder, see 6 ; or it may be an 
eminence has been quietly surrounded by a stream 
in its course; or finally accumulated soil, having 
been borne along by the stream, remains after the 




Park Treatment of Water in the Neighbourhood of Durham Cathedral, England. 
From a Photograph by F. Hovey Allen. 



irslan&s 165 

flood has receded, as an island standing above low 
water, see c. 

"Where the water flowing swiftly into a basin 
forms an island at the inlet, it will take about the 
shape of d', following the outer banks, the swiftly 
flowing stream by its strong pressure on both sides 
will somewhat round the ends. But if the river 
widens into a lake by gently filling a deep basin, 
rather than rushing into it, then e may be assumed 
as the natural shape, for here the river doesn't round 
off both sides, but forms in a slow current on the 
right, a long spit on the left bank, beyond which 
the quiet water, no longer in a powerful stream, pro- 
ceeds and gently flows round the higher ground. 
Very seldom, on the other hand, does a stream flow 
into such a basin as is generally made out, after the 
model of a bottle, see /. 

"Let the surface and shelving of an island on the 
same principle be constructed in accordance with 
the probable effect of the terrain and the water which 
washes it. The equal shelving on all sides and the 
equality of height throughout is the commonest 
mistake. I fell into this error at first ; g is bad and 
b is good. 

"But even the best forms may be bettered by 
plantations skilfully arranged covering the spots 
that appear less satisfactory and giving more variety 
to the surface without disturbing the harmony, con- 
cerning which the right feeling certainly must again 
decide; united taste and experience, recognizing the 



i66 XauDscape Hrcbftecture 

proper course, knows what cannot be altogether 
taught by correct rule. Islands planted down to the 
water's edge cannot be quite failures, be their shape 
what it may, and if the spirit of the scene is to be fol- 
lowed it may be the only alternative. I should never 
recommend leaving the shores of the island entirely 
unplanted, see i and k, even if it is a very good form, 
since the bare outline of nature, if I may so express 
it, is the most difficult of all to imitate. Finally 
one must confess that with all our endeavours to 
emulate nature, she yet retains in petto something 
unattainable, and says to us poor human beings, 
'Thus far and no farther.'"^ 

Prince Piickler in his Tour in England writes: 

"It is necessary to study the forms of water for 
the details, but the principal thing is never to suffer 
an expanse of water to be completely overlooked or 
seen in its whole extent. It should break on the 
eye gradually, and if possible lose itself at several 
points at the same time in order to give full play to 
the fancy — the true art in all landscape gardening." 

The actual construction of an island should be done 
on solid foundations of earth or stone and good drain- 
age secured. A rock here and there on the shores, if 
rocks already exist in the neighbourhood, will give a 
natural appearance and diversify the effect. Little 
miniature islands, outside of the main island, even a 

» Prince Piickler, Hints on Landscape Gardening. 



irsIanC)s 167 

few bits of stone with a little earth and a shrub or two, 
or just a few bare rocks jutting out on the surface of 
the water, tailing off as if they were small islands in the 
train of a big one, are found in thousands of places in 
the lakes of the country and are suggestive of this kind 
of landscape gardening that should be undertaken. 

The clothing of islands with trees and shrubs should 
be in harmony with the growth of the shores nearby. 
If young plants are selected almost any of the woodland 
types can be used ; elms, maples, alders, white willows, 
birches can all be used, but the kinds similar to those 
on the neighbouring shore should predominate. Where 
the mainland is free from woods, it is a good idea to 
throw across the water on the shore a mass of similar 
island growths. The repeating of a note of foliage 
in this manner is always effective and should be used 
in various ways throughout the neighbourhood as well as 
on the islands. All formalism in the planting should 
be avoided and the trees and shrubs grouped in many 
sizes, but for the sake of a considerable mass of colour, 
masses of one sort should be used together. If a small 
valley or cleft in the crest of an island occurs, it should 
not be planted, except with low shrubs or undergrowth, 
so as to emphasize the variety of surface and increase 
the contrast or contradiction of parts which contributes 
so much to the beauty and picturesqueness of the 
landscape. 

It takes almost a special gift to compass these natural 
effects, but the above simple hints or suggestions will 
place one on the right road. It sometimes almost 



1 68 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

makes one despair of trying to manage to create these 
natural-looking features. There are bits of views that 
have a beauty that cannot be imitated, and therefore 
it is often better to let a fine view alone when we can, 
because we can rarely improve it. Fortunate is any 
one who already has a natural and beautiful island. 
Best set out a water-lily or two or some other aquatic 
flower, but leave the trees and shrubs of the island 
untouched except a little cutting out of dead wood here 
and there or lopping off a rampant branch. 

A landscape gardener learns above most artists to 
exercise restraint and humility. Nature is so much 
better an artist than he can hope to be. Many a place 
should never be planted at all except with vines and 
low shrubs and a tree or two immediately adjoining 
the house; nature herself having done the work so 
supremely well. 

It has been already noted that to make an island 
after nature's standard, or type, there may well be 
more than one island, one in several and yet the whole 
constituting an island scheme, a unified effect. The 
most natural and beautiful island is one that is growing, 
one that has other small islands around it, emerging 
into sight, consisting, in some cases, of no more than a 
rock or a few square feet of earth and one or more 
small shrubs, an island very much like the larger one 
was at an earlier stage of its existence. To build such 
companion islands successfully, the controlling forces 
of the environment must be carefully studied and taken 
into account, the character of the current and the pre- 



HslanOs 169 

vailing winds, from whence the soil drifts, even the 
source of the stones that may be conveyed by the ice. 
These factors will all work effectively in the natural 
development of an island, and in artificial construc- 
tions we should continually recognize their value. 

If an island is large enough to require a bridge to 
connect it with the mainland, or to make the erection 
of some kind of building advisable, the simplest forms 
and material should be used, and generally it would 
be better to use stone alone. "Rustic work" as re- 
presented by the intricate arrangement of cedar, locust, 
or sassafras branches twisted into the strange conven- 
tional forms has become popular for bridges and 
summer houses on islands and elsewhere, but good taste 
should really bar it. It is neither defensible as archi- 
tecture of a sort, nor suitable as material for use in 
the landscape. 

The outline of the shore of the island is a feature that 
needs the most careful management to retain the in- 
finitely varied contours and even indentations character- 
istic of the method of treating such places followed by 
nature. Nothing that nature does is accidental or 
haphazard and therefore it is always important to 
study her methods and see how and why she arrives 
at certain results. Something of the play of these 
natural forces is indicated in the diagrams and expla- 
nations contained in the quotations from Prince Piickler 
contained in this chapter. 



X 

ROCKS 

THE employment of rocks in landscape gardening 
should be founded on study of the way similar 
fragments have naturally disposed themselves 
in the scenery of the territory where they are to be 
employed. 

To complete the natural beauty and proper effect 
of rocks in the landscape, rock plants are required, 
plants that thrive in shallow soil and in the crevices, 
pockets, and nooks found in such places. 

"They (the rocks) may also occasionally be con- 
nected with a stretch of wall built of blasted field 
stone as if for some purpose, like reconstructing a 
bridge or supporting a steep bank, one had merely 
taken advantage of the rocks which had naturally 
accumulated and supplemented the rest with a wall 
for the same purpose. This also gives the opportu- 
nity to gather together plants which demand a rocky 
soil, and which are often very ornamental, especially 
near water where such rock work is most desirable 
for a bulwark, dam, strong wall, etc., and in a large 
park they are almost indispensable. A slight artistic 

170 



lRocf?s 171 

touch which can be recommended is to set the stones 
in a slanting direction as if they had been forced up 
in that manner and to make one or more of the edges 
stand out conspicuously, which gives the whole a 
more picturesque and bold aspect,"' 

There are few things more beautiful in a park or 
garden than an old wall treated with rock plants in an 
intelligent manner. 

"A grand old wall is a precious thing in a garden, 
and many are the ways of treating it. If it is an 
ancient wall of great thickness, built at a time when 
neither was work shirked nor material stinted, even 
if many of the joints are empty, the old stone or 
brick stands firmly bonded, and, already two or three 
hundred years of age, seems likely to endure well into 
the future centuries. In such a wall wild plants will 
already have made themselves at home, and we may 
only have to put a little earth and a small plant into 
some cavity, or earth and seed into a narrow open 
joint, to be sure of a good reward. Often grasses 
and weeds rooting in the hollow places can be raked 
out and their spaces refilled with better things. 
When wild things grow in walls they always dispose 
themselves in good groups; such groups as without 
their guidance it would have been difficult to devise 
intentionally."^ 

* Prince Puckler, Hints on Landscape Gardening. 
^ Gertrude Jekyl, Wall and Water Gardens. 



172 Xan^scape Brcbltecturc 

These walls, ancient or recently made, are valuable 
in many places, bordering roads and lanes, supporting 
steep banks, and making the main structures of bridges 
and their approaches ; but it should be understood that, 
in order to have a rustic character, they should be made 
of stone collected in the fields near where they are to 
be used, or taken from a quarry where the rock shows a 
cleavage or lamination, a colour and grain which suit 
the character of the region where it is to be employed. 
Next in importance to the character of the stone is the 
size of the individual blocks used. These should be 
taken as large as possible and should not show any 
signs of the chisel, only a blow of the hammer here and 
there, to break off comers so that a rough fitting can 
be made. To this end, no chinking or thrusting little 
pieces of stone into the joints should be allowed. All 
these crevices or openings should be left exposed and 
then, by devising lips or pockets of cement, soil can 
be introduced and retained for growing plants.. This 
will in a year or two, when the plants have grown, give 
an old weather-worn appearance to the wall, an ancient 
moss-grown look, and at the same time a great charm 
of leaf and flower. Any concrete that may be neces- 
sary should be set in the core of the wall where it is 
out of sight. There are few rock plants that will grow 
in America, or even elsewhere, in these dry crevices, 
and such plants are confined largely to the mossy-look- 
ing sedums of dwarf habit, preferably the stonecrop 
(Sedum acre). Besides these there are the wild cactus 
or prickly pear {Opuntia vulgaris), the houseleeks 



IRocfts 173 

(sempervivums), which do well in these difficult places. 
Hardly any other kinds can be used for the purpose. 

At the base of these walls ferns, iris, saxifrage, and 
other medium-sized herbaceous plants that bloom at 
different parts of the season may be grown, but the 
kinds should be selected so that only the base of the 
wall for a foot or two is covered, because the beauty 
of the grain and colouring of the wall is quite as impor- 
tant as the plant growth. 

Judgment should be carefully exercised in the quan- 
tity of climbing plants used, — roses, clematis, Virginia 
creeper, euonymus, Japanese ivy, etc., — because the 
growth of these vines is so luxuriant that without 
proper control they will soon cover the entire wall and 
hide the beauty of the stone itself and its moss-covered 
crevices and surface. The right way is to plant climb- 
ing vines nearly always at the back of the wall, in which 
case they will grow up to the top and then can be trained 
longitudinally along the coping. Unless this training is 
carefully followed up, the vines grow out in all directions 
and, more or less, droop down and cover too much of 
the beautiful surface of the front wall. The Etconymus 
radicans is a small evergreen vine of great beauty and 
has the advantage of growing in a moderate way in 
front of the wall, fitting itself into some of the large 
crevices which are difficult to cover with the sedums 
and sempervivums, but even this vine needs consider- 
able attention to prevent its spreading too much over 
the picturesque wall surface. 

The accompanying illustration shows the appearance 



174 XantJscape Hrcbitecture 

of a wall two years old. This wall extends in front of 
the estate of W. W. Cook, Esq., bordering King Street 
about two miles from Port Chester, N. Y. The stone, 
a heavy granite, is of striking beauty, having a warm 
pink colour shading into browns and yellows. Much of 
it is water worn and all of it was taken out of a quarry 
on the shores of the Sound a few miles from New Haven. 
The blocks vary in size from three feet to ten feet long 
and three feet wide and weigh some of them nearly 
a ton each. The coping has been carefully selected 
from the quarry and hammered somewhat to give it 
a comparatively uniform surface, but leaving the nat- 
urally rounded and curving contours. 

Such a wall should neither look like a ruin, nor on the 
other hand like a neatly laid up structure made of small 
flat stones, but every foot of it should be studied with 
the object of harmonizing and contrasting the colour 
and form of the stones, grouping them and combining 
their colour in the most effective way. There are 
beautiful kinds of granite which are well suited to this 
purpose. Mica in stones should be avoided and only 
rock selected that will weather attractively. It is a 
good idea to consider that the function of rock plants 
and vines is simply to frame beautiful panels of stone 
in the wall. In that case it will be difficult to go far 
wrong. To pile earth on top of the wall and in banks 
against the sides and almost cover everything with 
flowering plants is to miss the chief object of rock 
gardening. 

Mr. William Robinson in the English Flower Garden 



1R0Cl?9 175 

well expresses the way in which such work should be 
done : 

"No burrs, clinkers, vitrified matter, portions of 
old arches and pillars, broken-nosed statues, etc., 
should ever be seen in a garden of alpine flowers. 
Never let any part of the rock garden appear as if 
it had been shot out of a cart. The rocks should all 
have their bases buried in the ground, and the seams 
should not be visible; wherever a vertical or oblique 
seam occurs, it should be crammed with earth, and 
the plants put in with the earth will quickly hide the 
seam."' 

All suggestion of artificiality of any kind should be 
carefully avoided in using rocks in landscape gardening. 
^ The least appearance of the hand of man is more in- 
jurious to the charm of the place than it is anywhere 
else in the landscape scheme. To imitate, or better to 
simulate the natural surface of a meadow by grading 
is difficult and is a work of art, the management and 
disposition of trees and shrubs is not easy, but to place 
rock work so that the presence of the mason is not 
dominating, nor the careless method of the teamster 
in dumping his load of stone, is the most difficult of all. 
This latter form of dumping down rock is by some 
wrongly deemed natural and well designed, provided 
the interstices be filled with plants. 

Thomas Whately writes as follows on the same 
subject : 

' English Flower Garden, chapter xi., p. 144. 



176 Xan&scape Brcbitecture 

"But too strong a force on the nature of the place 
always fails; a winding path which appears to be 
worn, not cut, has more effect than a highroad, all 
artificial and level, which is too weak to overbear, 
and yet contradicts the general idea; the objects 
therefore to be introduced must be those which hold 
a mean betwixt solitude and population; and the 
inclination of that choice towards either extreme 
should be directed by the degree of wildness which 
prevails ; for though that runs sometimes to an excess 
which requires correction, at other times it wants 
encouragement, and at all times it ought to be pre- 
served; it is the predominant character of rocks, 
which mixes with every other, and to which all the 
appendages must be accommodated; and they may 
be applied so as greatly to increase it: a licentious 
irregularity of wood and of ground, and a fantastic 
conduct of the streams, neither of which would be 
tolerated in the midst of cultivation, become and 
improve romantic spots; even buildings, partly by 
their style, but still more by their position, in strange, 
difficult, or dangerous situations, distinguish and 
aggravate the native tendencies of the scene. In 
the choice and application of these accompaniments 
consists all our power over rocks ; they are themselves 
too vast and too stubborn to submit to our control; 
but by the addition or removal of the appendages 
which we can command, parts may be shown or 
concealed, and the characters with their impressions 
may be weakened or enforced: to adapt the accom- 



lRocI?s 177 

paniments accordingly is the utmost ambition of art 
when rocks are the subject. 

" Their most distinguished characters are dignity, 
terror, and fajicy: the expression of all is constantly 
wild; and sometimes a rocky scene is only wild, with- 
out pretension to any particular character. 

" Art may interpose to show these large parts to the 
eye, and magnify them to the imagination, by taking 
away thickets which stretch quite across the rocks, 
so as to disguise their dimensions, or by filling with 
wood the small intervals between them, and thus by 
concealing the want, preserving the appearance of 
continuation. When rocks retire from the eye down a 
gradual declivity, we can, by raising the upper ground, 
deepen the fall, lengthen the perspective, and give 
both height and extent to those at a distance: this 
effect may still be increased by covering the upper 
ground with a thicket, which shall cease, or be lowered, 
as it descends. 

** A thicket on other occasions makes the rocks which 
rise out of it seem larger than they are ; if they stand 
on the bank overspread with shrubs, their beginning 
is at least uncertain, and the presumption is that 
they start from the bottom. 

" Rocks are seldom remarkable for the elegance of 
their forms ; they are too vast and too rude to pretend 
to delicacy; but their shapes are often agreeable; 
and we can affect those shapes to a certain degree, at 
least we can cover many blemishes in them, by con- 
ducting the growth of shrubbery and creeping plants 



178 Xan^scape Brcbitccture 

about them. For all these purposes mere underwood 
suffices, but for greater effects larger trees are requi- 
site; they are worthy of the scene, and not only 
improvements but accessions to its grandeur; we are 
used to rank them among the noblest objects of 
nature, and when we see they cannot aspire to the 
midway of the heights around them, the rocks are 
raised by comparison. A single tree is therefore 
preferable to a clump; the size, though really less, 
is more remarkable ; and clumps are besides generally 
exceptionable in a very wild spot from the suspicion 
of art that attends them ; but a wood is free from that 
suspicion, and its own character of greatness com- 
mends it to every scene of magnificence." 

No chisel should be allowed to touch the stones except 
to break off chunks. The stone or rock masses should 
be laid lengthwise in the wall, not with the narrow 
parts up and down, and naturally the larger pieces 
should rest on the ground. Where the stones rest on 
the ground, the point of junction of the stone and soil 
should be at least two or three inches above the actual 
rock base. There is a principle involved in the idea. 
Concealment serves to suggest that the rocks have not 
been brought to the spot, but have grown there, and 
the soil gradually gathered about them. In this way 
it looks, and should look, as if the position of these rocks 
was the work of nature. Sometimes it is well to have 
a few small rocks at the foot of the wall, as if nature 
had dropped them there broad side down. It ought, 



IRocfts 179 

however, to be a stony region where this is done. 
Wherever no visible rocks exist, nothing but the upright 
stone wall should be constructed, and above all, only- 
stone should be used the appearance of which has con- 
siderable resemblance to those native to the region. 
In most places there are some indications of native stone 
cropping out of the surface of the ground. Should the 
estate or park be located in a distinctly sandy territory 
like some parts of New Jersey, there would certainly be 
found somewhere within a few miles sandstone that 
would suit the purpose. Stones loaded with mica 
should be avoided as already noted, for time fails to 
weather them satisfactorily ; for the same reason pud- 
ding-stone, conglomerate, lava-like material, slaty 
stone, and anything of the nature of fine-grained 
marble are unsatisfactory. Rough-grained stone is 
required generally, whether granite, limestone, sand- 
stone, or even a nondescript material which is difficult 
to classify. The same instinct for simplicity and 
rugged strength would suggest in connexion with such 
stone walls that gates with their hinges and fastenings, 
lamps, and braces of all kinds be made of the roughest 
kind of hammered wrought iron, strong looking and 
quaint and grotesque in design. Such rough-looking 
metal may be cast so as to look like hammered wrought 
iron, in which case its use may be admissible, although 
strictly speaking it is hardly in good taste. It is 
generally wise to design such features either yourself 
or with the aid of some special artist. Hardly ever 
can you get a design from books or samples that really 



i8o Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

fits the scheme of treatment suitable for your wall. 
The proportions of the wall are also a consideration of 
great importance. Whether the wall should be three 
feet high or four feet or a mere border of a few inches or 
a foot, depends naturally on existing conditions, but 
there should always be plenty of proportionate thick- 
ness and something of a batter, that is a narrower top 
than base, and always at intervals wide stones running 
through the wall and tying the mass together. The 
coping should be equally proportionate and lie com- 
paratively level or sloping regularly down. Stepping 
down with the coping at intervals should be avoided 
if possible. It is not natural looking. 

The construction of the cave and rough stone arch- 
way in the Ramble in Central Park forms one of the best 
examples of rock work to be found anywhere. Two 
enormous masses of rock near each other, with recesses 
forming a cave, were bridged over with large masses of 
stones laid so as to make rough parapet walls and rough 
stone side pieces, and then sloping off in two directions 
are steep banks bordering the path and planted with 
masses of rock and vines and shrubbery. The rocky 
incident originally existed, but its essential nature was 
seized and improved on right lines. 

Many are the forms which rock work may assume, 
besides a wall. There are steps, caves in hillsides, 
bridges, and even houses, and very often there are rocks 
to be discovered in the neighbourhood whose beauty 
can be enhanced by locating other and smaller stones in 
their neighbourhood and ornamenting the entire mass 




The Rustic Bridge Adjoining the Cave in the Ramble, 

Central Park, New York City. 

From a Photograph by William Hale Kirk. 



IRocfts i8i 

with vines, sedums, etc. Moreover, wherever rock 
crops out in the lawn, alongside a path, on a hillside or 
on the level, there is an opportunity to add similar pieces 
of rock half buried with the interstices between them 
filled with earth and then with plants. To do this there 
are chances in many parts of the country and the possi- 
bilities of thus creating natural effects of the greatest 
beauty are endless and scarcely realized at the present 
time. The very selection of the stones with their 
beautiful grain and contour invites study of the most 
delightful sort. Think what could be done if the same 
attention were given to this study as to the collecting 
of curios or gems or to the use of stained glass. After 
all there are few things finer than these marvellous 
effects of nature that belong to the countryside and 
which are generally overlooked as commonplace and 
not specially interesting. 

The bridge over the pond in Central Park indicates 
the rustic effect without plants in the interstices of 
the stones, and the Lombardy poplars and shrubbery 
emphasize and screen the entrance of the footway. 

Here is an example of a stone bridge of the type we 
have been considering, which illustrates the idea of 
simplicity and natural dignity and charm. To Garden 
and Forest, vol. i., p. 52, we owe the illustration and 
the following description : 

"This very ancient bridge spans one of the small 
streams on Dartmoor in the south-west of England. 
Its construction is sufficiently explained by the 



i82 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

picture — two land piers and one stream pier are 
connected by long spanning stones which carry- 
parapets made up of large irregular blocks. It is 
hardly necessary to point out the degree to which 
this bridge combines picturesque beauty with dura- 
bility, or to explain the fitness of such bridges for 
rural situations in our own country. In the immedi- 
ate vicinity of a very dignified house so rude and 
unarchitectural a bridge would perhaps be out of 
place, and the same is true of those portions of an 
urban park where formality rules or where archi- 
tectural works of importance are in view. But in 
the sequestered naturally treated portions of parks 
a bridge of this sort would be entirely appropriate; 
and carrying a road or footway near a country home 
of modest character or in a village suburb it would 
be a most charming feature. Naturally we have 
no wish to suggest that this bridge be copied either 
in its special form or in the size and disposition of its 
stones, although in both these respects it would be an 
excellent model. It is illustrated merely to show how 
very simply a stone bridge may be built and how 
incomparably better in effect it is than the ugly 
constructions in iron or the rough assemblage of 
planks with which in this country we are so familiar. 
Weather-beaten boulders as old as those in this bridge 
at Leatherton, and as appropriate for bridge building, 
lie by every New England stream, and it would need 
no high degree of skill to put them to service. But 
we seem to have thought the bare straight lines of 




o 






c tn 



^ ■;£ 



o 



c 



H 



IRocfts 183 

iron more beautiful than the infinite variety of form 
and surface and colour of our moss-grown stones. It 
is full time we changed our minds." 

The bridge on the estate of Muskau as shown in the 
illustration is attractive because it spans a brawling 
stream and because it is simple and unassuming, but the 
stones of which it is constructed are too small and the 
entrance to the footway is bare of foliage. 

Another fault to be found with this admirable method 
of bridge building, is that there is little or no moss, or 
sedums which would take the place of moss, to be seen. 

There are other illustrations of the proper use of 
rocks in landscape architecture which are shown in 
some of the views of the chapters of this book. They 
have been taken from sketches, made by A. F. Bellows 
fifty years ago, of Central Park, New York, in the 
early state of its development. It is not easy to find 
examples of rock work anywhere equal to those in 
Central Park. Unfortunately the study of these 
examples does not seem to have commended itself to 
many people, for there is little evidence to be seen on 
country places of endeavour to excel in this branch 
of landscape architecture. 



XI 

GRADING AND SHAPING GROUNDS 

" /^~\N meadows as a rule, here and there, the 
I I Httle ups and downs must be levelled, for 
practical purposes as well as appearance: 
but larger undulations of the terrain must by no 
means be unnecessarily disturbed. But if never- 
theless it is desirable for other reasons to re- 
move and level any considerable height, and any 
fine trees happen to be standing there which should 
not be removed, then I advise leaving them 
standing on single small hillocks, which gives the 
meadow still more variety, for which reason I have 
often deliberately planted in this way and with 
good results. 

"Although in general a certain undulation of the 
terrain is advisable at times, an excellent effect is 
brought about by making the bottoms of little 
valleys, having steep surroundings, quite level. We 
often find such formations in nature which charm us 
by the contrast." ' 

It is remarkable to find these wise reflections recorded 

• Prince Puckler, Hints on Landscape Gardening. 

184 







A Bridge at Leatherton, Dartmoor, England. 
From a Photograph Taken from Garden and Forest. (By Permission.) 




A Rough Stone Bridge in the Park on the Estate of Prince Puckler von Muskau. 
From a Photograph by Thomas W. Sears, Providence, R. I. 



k 



(BraMno an5 Sbaptuo (3roun^s 185 

nearly a century ago. The feeling for nature is strongly 
evident, and the whole tendency of the views expressed 
is to confirm the fundamental ideas which I propose to 
discuss for the grading and shaping the earth surface 
for landscape gardening. 

The problem, here as elsewhere, is to humour and 
conquer nature and yet, to all appearance, still keep 
her character intact. Before the planting of trees and 
shrubs and flowers, before, usually, even the final 
disposition of the paths and roads, comes this modu- 
lation of the surface of the earth, for it really amounts 
to this, for not only existing natural conditions should be 
harmonized and overcome without losing the charac- 
teristic topography of the place, but due regard should 
be given also to the general appearance of the scenery 
immediately outside of the place, and even miles away, 
and thus the keynote of the scenery of the region be 
kept continually in mind. 

To do this work in the proper spirit, and in a really 
skilful manner, is perhaps the most difficult undertak- 
ing that the landscape gardener will have to master. 
There are niceties in the details of shaping the ground, 
the execution of which will not be easy of accomplish- 
ment. An active movement of the surface will have 
to be maintained that is not expressed by either of the 
words rolling or levelling, and yet both have their 
value in describing the process. The higher portions 
are made, or become, lower, overcome by the reaction 
of the next swell. Nothing is regular. There should 
be conflict and contrast, and for a moment or longer, 



1 86 Xant)scape Hrcbitecture 

harmony and restfulness. The lawn should be like 
the waves of the sea or a lake beating on the shores of 
varied coast lines of trees and shrubs, with the flowers 
acting like the foam and spray, thrusting themselves 
forward on much the same lines of contrast, conflict, 
and yielding. The chief art, however, lies in keeping 
the essential spirit of the scenery pervasive and recur- 
rent at irregular intervals throughout. 

It is hardly possible to convey any adequate idea of 
how this grading is to be done imder all circumstances, 
conditions vary so continually, but there is a way of 
doing this, depending on existing relations of things that 
can only be attained by long training and much obser- 
vation; and yet this is the very thing that is generally 
left to the ordinary day labourer. 

We have cited Prince Piickler's wise suggestions on 
grading, but going back quite half a century earlier we 
read in the pages of Thomas Whately a really profound 
and illuminating dissertation on the subject. Thomas 
Whately is a well-known and highly respected authority 
on landscape gardening both in his own day (1770) and 
at the present time. The weight of his advice there- 
fore will excuse the following extended quotation from 
his principal work: 

"A plain is not, however, interesting, and the 
least deviation from the uniformity of its surface 
changes its nature; as long as the flat remains, it 
depends on the objects around for all its variety and 
all its beauty, but convex and concave forms are 



<3ra&fng ant) Sbapfng (B rounds 187 

generally pleasing; and the number of degrees and 
combinations into which they may be cast is infinite, 
those forms only in each which are perfectly regular 
must be avoided ; a semicircle can never be tolerable : 
small portions of large circles blended together or 
lines gently curved which are not parts of any circle, 
a hollow sinking but little below the level; a swell 
very much flattened at the top, are commonly the 
most agreeable figures. In ground that lies beauti- 
fully the concave will generally prevail; within the 
same compass it shows more compass than a swell; 
all the sides of the latter are not visible at the same 
time, except in a few particular situations; but it is 
only in a few particular situations that any part of a 
hollow is concealed, earth seems to have been accumu- 
lated to raise the one, and taken away to sink the 
other. The concave, therefore, appears the lighter, 
and for the most part it is the more elegant shape; 
even the slope of a swell can hardly be brought down 
unless broken now and then into hollows to take off 
from the heaviness of the mass. In made ground 
the connexion is, perhaps, the principal consideration. 
A swell that wants it is but a heap, a hollow but a 
hole; and both appear artificial. The one seems 
placed upon a surface to which it does not belong; 
the other dug into it. Trees, too, without being con- 
nected with those within, and seeming part of a 
clump or a grove there will frequently obliterate every 
trace of an interruption. By such or other means 
the line may be, and should be hid or disguised ; not 



88 XanDscapc Hrcbitecture 

for the purpose of deception (when all is done we are 
seldom deceived), but to preserve the continued 
surface entire. 

"If where no union is intended, a line of separation 
is disagreeable, it must be disgusting when it breaks 
the connexion between the several parts of the same 
piece of ground. That connexion depends on the 
junction of each part to those about, and on the relation 
of every part to the whole. To complete the former, 
such shapes should be contiguous as most readily 
unite, and the actual division between should be 
anxiously concealed. If a swell descends upon a 
level; if a hollow sinks from it, the level is an absolute 
termination and a little run marks it distinctly. To 
cover that run, a short sweep at the foot of the swell, 
a small rotundity at the entrance to the hollow, must 
be interposed. In every instance when ground 
changes its direction, there is a point where the 
change is effected and that point should never appear. 
Some other shapes, uniting easily with both extremes, 
must be thrown in to conceal it. But there must be 
no uniformity even in these connexions; if the same 
sweep be carried all around the bottom of a swell, the 
same rotundity all around the top of a hollow, 
though the junction be perfect, yet the art by which 
it is made is apparent, and art must never appear. 
The manner of concealing the separation should itself 
be disguised, and different degrees of cavity or rotund- 
ity, different shapes and dimensions to the little 
parts, thus dignified by degrees; and those parts 



(BraMng anb Sbaplng 6roun5s 189 

breaking in one place more, in another less, into 
the principal forms that are to be united, produce 
that variety with which all nature abounds, and 
without which ground cannot be natural. 

"The relation of all the parts to the whole when 
clearly marked, facilitates their junction with each 
other : for the common bond of union is then perceived, 
before there has been time to examine the subordinate 
connexions; and if these should be deficient in some 
niceties, the defect is lost in the general impression. 
But any part that is at variance with the rest, is not 
barely a blemish in itself : it spreads disorder as far as 
its influence extends; and the confusion is in pro- 
portion as the other parts are more or less adapted, 
to point out any particular direction, or to mark any 
peculiar character in the ground. 

"If in ground all descending one way, a piece is 
twisted across another, the general fall is obstructed 
by it, but if all the parts incline in the same direction, 
it is hardly credible how small a declivity will seem to 
be considerable. An appearance even of steepness 
may be given to a very gentle descent, by raising 
hillocks up on it which shall lean to the point, whither 
all the rest are tending, for the eye measures from 
the top of the highest to the bottom of the lowest 
ground; and when the relation of the parts is well 
preserved, such an effect from one is transfused over 
the whole. 

"But they should not, therefore, all lie exactly in 
the same direction; some may seem to point to it 



190 XanDscape Hrcbttecture 

directly, others to incline very much, others but little, 
some partially, some entirely. 

"If the direction be strongly marked on a few 
principal parts, great liberties may be taken with the 
others, provided none of them are turned the con- 
trary way. The general idea must, however, be 
preserved, clear even of a doubt. A hillock, which 
only intercepts the sight, if it does not contribute to 
the principal effect is, at the best, an imnecessary 
excrescence, and even an interruption in the general 
tendency, though it hide nothing, is a blemish. On a 
descent, any hollow, any fall, which has not an outlet 
to lower ground, is a hole: the eye skips over it, 
instead of being continued along it ; it is a gap in the 
composition. 

"There may indeed be occasions when we should 
rather wish to promote than to check the general 
tendency. Ground may proceed too hastily towards 
its point; and we have equal power to retard or 
accelerate the fall. We can slacken the precipitancy 
of a steep by breaking it into parts, some which shall 
incline less, than the whole before inclined, to the 
principal direction, and by turning them quite away, 
we may even change the course of the descent. 
These powers are of use in the larger scenes, where 
the several great parts lie in several directions; and 
if they are thereby too strongly contrasted, or led 
to points too widely asunder, every art should be 
exerted to bring them nearer together, to assimilate 
and connect them. As scenes increase in extent, 



GraMns an& Sbapino (BrounDs 191 

they become more impatient of control : they are not 
only less manageable, but ought to be less restrained; 
they require more variety and contrast. But still 
the same principles are applicable to the least, and 
to the greatest, tho' not with equal severity: neither 
ought to be rent to pieces ; and though a small neglect, 
which would distract the one, may not disturb the 
other, yet a total disregard of all the principles of 
union is alike productive of confusion in both. 

"The style also of every part must be accommo- 
dated to the character of the whole, for every piece 
of ground is distinguished by certain properties: it 
is either tame or bold, gentle or rude; continued or 
broken; and if any varieties inconsistent with those 
properties be obtruded, it has no other effect than to 
weaken one idea without raising another. The in- 
sipidity of a flat is not taken away by a few scat- 
tered hillocks; a continuation of uneven ground can 
alone give the idea of inequaHty. A large, deep, 
abrupt break, along easy swells and falls, seems at 
the best but a piece left unfinished, which ought to 
have been softened, it is not more natural because 
it is more rude ; nature forms both one and the other 
but seldom mixes them together. On the other hand, 
a small, fine, polished form, in the midst of rough mis- 
shapen ground, though more elegant than all about 
it, is generally no better than a patch, itself disgraced, 
and disfiguring the scene. A thousand instances 
might be produced to show, that the prevailing idea 
ought to pervade every part, so far at least indis- 



192 XanDscape Brcbitecture 

pensably as to exclude whatever distracts it; and as 
much farther as possible to accommodate the char- 
acter of the ground to that of the scene it belongs to. 
On the same principle the proportion of the parts 
may often be adjusted; for though their size must 
be very much governed by the extent of the place ; and 
a feature, which would fill up a small spot, may be 
lost in a large one ; though there are forms of a par- 
ticular cast which appear to advantage only within 
certain dimensions and ought not, therefore, to be 
applied, where they have not room enough, or where 
they must occupy more space than becomes them; 
yet independent of these considerations, a character 
of greatness belongs to some scenes which is not 
measured by their extent, but raised by other prop- 
erties, sometimes only by the proportional largeness 
of their parts. On the contrary, where elegance 
characterizes the spot, the parts should not only be 
small, but diversified with subordinate inequalities, 
and little delicate touches everywhere scattered 
about them. Striking effects, forcible impressions, 
whatever seems to require effort, disturbs the en- 
joyment of a scene intended to amuse and please. 
In other instances similar considerations will de- 
termine rather the number than the proportion of 
the parts. A place may be distinguished by its 
simplicity, which many divisions would destroy; 
another spot, without any pretensions to elegance, 
may be remarkable for an appearance of richness: a 
multiplicity of objects will give that appearance, and 



(Brabfng an5 Sbapino GrounOs 193 

a number of parts in the ground will contribute to the 
profusion. A scene of gaiety is improved by the 
same means ; the objects and parts may differ in style, 
but they must be numerous in both. Sameness is 
dull; the purest simplicity can at the most render 
a place composed of large parts placid ; the sublimest 
ideas only make it striking; it is always grave; to 
enliven it, numbers are wanting. 

"But ground is seldom beautiful or natural without 
variety or even without contrast, and the precau- 
tions that have been given tend no further than to 
prevent variety from degenerating into inconsist- 
ency and contrast into contradiction. Within the 
extreme nature supplies an inexhaustible fund; and 
variety thus limited, so far from destroying improves 
the general effect. Each distinguished part makes 
a separate impression ; and all bearing the same stamp, 
all concurring to the same end, every one is an 
additional support to the prevailing idea: that is 
multiplied; it is extended, it appears in different 
shapes; it is shown in several lights; and the variety 
illustrates the relation. But variety wants not this 
recommendation: it is always desirable when it can 
be properly introduced; and the accurate observer 
will see in every form several circumstances by which 
it is distinguished from every other. If the scene be 
mild and quiet, he will place together those that do 
not differ widely; he will gradually depart from the 
similitude. In ruder scenes the succession will be less 
regular, and the transition more sudden. The 
13 



194 Xanbscape Brcbitecture 

character of the place must determine the degree of 
difference between forms which are contiguous. 
Besides distinctions in the shapes of the ground, 
differences in their situations and their dimensions 
are sources of variety. The position will alter the 
effect, though the figure be the same; and for par- 
ticular effects, a change only in the distance may be 
striking. If that be considerable, a succession of 
similar shapes sometimes occasions a fine perspective ; 
but the diminution will be less marked, that is the 
effect will be less sensible if the forms are not nearly 
alike; we take more notice of one difference, when 
there is no other. Sometimes a very disagreeable 
result, produced by too close a resemblance of shapes, 
may be remedied by an alteration in the size. If 
a steep descends in a succession of abrupt falls, 
nearly equal, they have an appearance of steps; and 
are neither pleasing nor wild, but, if they are made 
to differ in height and length, the objection is re- 
moved: and at all times, a difference in the dimen- 
sions will be found to have a greater effect, than in 
speculation: we should be inclined to ascribe to it, 
and will often disguise a similarity of figure. It also 
contributes perhaps more than any other circum- 
stance, to the perfection of those lines which the eye 
traces along the parts of a piece of ground when it 
glances over several together. No variety of form 
compensates for the want of it. An undulating 
line, composed of parts all elegant in themselves, 
all judiciously contrasted and happily united, but 



(BraMug an& Sbaplno Groun&s 195 

equal one to another, is far from the line of beauty. 
A long straight line has no variety at all ; and a little 
deviation into a curve, if there be still a continued 
conformity, is but a trifling amendment. Though 
ground all falling the same way requires every 
attention to its general tendency, yet the eye must 
not dart down the whole length, immediately in one 
direction, but should be insensibly conducted to- 
wards the principal point with some circuity and 
delay. The channels between hillocks ought never 
to run in straight, nor even regularly curved lines; 
but winding gently among them, and constantly 
varying in form and in dimensions should gradually 
find their way. The beauty of a large hill, especially 
when seen from below, is frequently impaired by 
the even continuation of its brow. An attempt to 
break it by little knolls is seldom successful, they 
seem separate independent hillocks artificially put 
on. The intended effect may indeed be produced by 
a large knoll descending in some places lower than 
in others, and rooted in several points in the hill. 
The same end may be attained by carrying some 
channel or hollow on the side upward till it cut the 
continued line; or by bringing the brow forward in 
one place, and throwing it back in another, or by 
forming a secondary ridge a little way down the side, 
and casting the ground above it into a different 
though not opposite direction to the general descent. 
Any of these expedients will at least draw the atten- 
tion off from the defect; but, if the break were to 



196 XanOscape Hrcbitecture 

divide the run into equal parts, another uniformity 
would be added without removing the former; for 
regularity always suggests a suspicion of artifice, 
and artifice detected no longer deceives: our imagin- 
ation would industriously join the broken parts and 
the idea of the broken line would be restored. 

" Whatever break be chosen, the position of it must 
be oblique to the line which is to be broken. A 
rectangular division produces sameness; there is no 
contrast between the forms it divides; but, if it be 
oblique, while it diminishes the part on one side, 
it enlarges that on the other. Parallel lines are liable 
to the same objection as those at right angles : though 
each by itself be the perfect line of beauty, yet, if they 
correspond, they form a shape between them, whose 
sides want contrast. On the same principle forms 
will sometimes be introduced less for their intrinsic 
than their occasional merit, in contrasting happily 
with those about them: each sets off the other, and 
together they are a more agreeable composition than 
if they had been beautiful, but at the same time more 
similar. One reason why tame scenes are seldom 
interesting is, that, although they often admit of 
many varieties, they allow of few, and those only 
faint, contrasts. We may be pleased with the 
number of the former, but we can be struck only by 
the force of the latter. These ought to abound in the 
larger and bolder scenes of a garden especially in such 
as are formed by an assemblage of many distinct and 
considerable parts thrown together; as when several 







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(BraMno anb Sbaping Grounds 197 

rising grounds appear one beyond another, a fine swell 
seen above a slanting swell which runs before it, has 
a beautiful effect which a nearer effect would destroy : 
and (except in particular instances) a close similarity 
in lines which either cross, or face, or rise behind one 
another, makes a poor, uniform, disagreeable com- 
position. "' 

No better illustration of the truth of these remarks of 
Thomas Whately can be found than the north meadows 
in Central Park and the meadows of Prospect Park, 
Brooklyn, N. Y. They are not only rolling but ridged 
up in long mounds at places as if fences had been 
removed from pasture fields and the headlands left 
unle veiled. See illustration of north meadow, Central 
Park. There is not a level spot on this meadow to all 
appearance; and when one thinks of it, the meadow 
or pastureland, the fundamental idea of a park, lawn, 
or meadow is not level. A cricket, tennis, or bowl- 
ing court is, but not a pasture field. Farms do not 
produce level meadows, and sheep and cows do not 
wander on such places. It is the swell and swing of the 
surface coming now and then to a small ridge and then 
dying away into space that is almost level ; it is the rise 
and fall, the becoming and dying away into the soft 
effect of the almost level. The same idea or type of 
treatment is evolved here as in the plantations and lines 
of walks and roads and rock work and water and islands ; 
all start from the same idea. Let any one try, on the 

' Thomas Whately, Observations on Modern Gardening. 



198 XanC)scape Hrcbitecture 

other hand, to make a level meadow. He can with 
difficulty make a level cricket bowling streak, or a level 
tennis court — much less a large meadow a mile long like 
the one in Prospect Park. The eye will deceive one, 
and the place will never look level from every point of 
view. It will seem convex or concave and, worst of 
all, it will look as if an attempt had been made to 
produce a level territory and had failed. The sense of 
that kind of failure is always trying to any one who can 
understand the end which is sought. 

Many people's sense of these niceties of landscape art 
is so obtuse and imperfect that they will at "one fell 
swoop" destroy these fine "nuances" of grading. 
This has indeed been done in Central Park through 
ignorant and, therefore, unintentional treatment of one 
of the most beautiful meadows near 59th Street, a 
meadow which has been spoken of as the most expen- 
sive piece of work of the same size in the area of the 
park ; all spoiled by unintelligent grading. Of all under- 
takings of the landscape gardener, grading is the last 
to be left to the skill of the common day labourer. It 
would be just as sensible a proceeding to set the quarry- 
man who hews and blasts out the stone from the 
hillside to carve a copy of some great statue. Yet the 
landscape gardener at his best can never hope to create 
work like nature when she is at her finest. He can only 
work in what he believes to be the same style, but never 
quite in the same style as she presents when she works 
in her best mood. He can enter into her spirit, but 
never quite reach her heart. 



GraMno ant) Sbaping Groun&s 199 

The illustration of Mr. Agar's estate is introduced 
to show how the shape of a lawn can be graded so as 
to give the impression of no change of surface what- 
ever, just a retention of the natural character of the 
place by blending and moulding the contour lines of 
the ground. 

The centre of the lawn to the north has been greatly- 
depressed, and still further to the north it has been 
raised considerably and trees and shrubs planted to 
shut out an unattractive view. 



XII 

PLANTATIONS 

" '' I ^HE first requirement of a landscape is the 
I vigorous growth of all plants. The finest 
forms of mountains and lakes, all the bril- 
liancy of the sun and sky, combined with the naked 
rocks and bare lakes cannot replace the luxuriant 
growth of various forms of trees, and the diversified 
pleasing green and rich foliage and meadows. Fortu- 
nate the man to whom his forbears have bequeathed 
lofty woods, old oaks, beeches, and lindens, these 
proud giants of our Northern clime, standing there 
still untouched by the woodman's murderous axe. 
He should never regard them without veneration and 
delight, he should cherish them as the apple of his 
eye, for neither money nor power, neither a Croesus 
nor an Alexander, can restore an oak a thousand 
years old in its wonderful majesty after the poor 
labourer has felled it. Terrible and swift is the 
destructive power of man, but poor and weak is his 
power of rebuilding. May an ancient tree be to you, 
kind reader, who love nature, a holy thing. And 



plantations 201 

yet, here also, the individual tree must be sacrificed, 
if need be, to the general group. 

" It may happen that a tree which, taken alone 
is most beautiful, does really disturb the effectiveness 
and harmony of the whole, and then it must be 
sacrificed. Such occasions however are very rare, 
and I unfortunately know from my own experience 
that a slight alteration of my plans would often 
be sufficient to spare a precious veteran whose ex- 
ecution at first seemed unavoidable. At all events, 
before applying the executioner's axe, be sure to 
deliberate not once but many times. It may be 
that the importance which I give to this matter may 
appear exaggerated, yet a true lover of nature will 
understand me, and excuse the qualms of conscience 
that half a dozen trees murdered without reason 
continue to cause me. On the other hand, my only 
consolation is that by boldly cutting down other 
trees I have made such great improvements, that 
the gain outbalances the loss. Besides, there is no 
denying that more can be accomplished in one day 
by the removal of a few big trees, than by planting 
thousands of specimens in a hundred years, and that 
the loss of a couple of these is not to be regretted if 
their number is increased a hundred-fold to the eye 
by making so many others visible which had pre- 
viously been quite obscured. This is so certain, 
that, although I have not been blessed with a surplus 
of ancient trees in my park, yet I have succeeded 
in apparently multiplying tenfold the number of 



202 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

them left standing. These are visible now from 
all points, by the removal of some eighty others. 
One is often struck by the fact in such cases that 
'One cannot see the woods for the trees.' The 
great art in laying out a park consists in making use 
of comparatively few objects in such a way that a 
great variety of different pictures result, in which the 
recurrent elements are not recognized, or at least 
produce novel and surprising effects. " ' 

A tree: a live organism, a unit in the landscape 
scheme of the park, country place, or garden; a unit 
that may live six months or a hundred years, working 
out its own peculiar nature and office in the service 
of the general artistic life that should inform every 
scheme of landscape gardening. It is a living, individ- 
ual member of the whole conception, differing entirely 
from the blocks of wood or stone in the architectural 
design of a building. It is not only a life, but in- 
numerable lives within its life to the very core of its 
being. It is for this reason that a tree or a flower may 
readily take on apparently something of the person- 
ality of a human being. The birch becomes the 
dainty, delicate, airy, graceful lady of the woods, the 
oak a monarch among his subjects. 

Where is the line that can be taken to mark the 
separation of the life of the plant from that of man and 
define its essential difference? At what point of de- 
velopment does personality come into being in the 

' Hints on Landscape Gardening, Prince Piickler. 




A Diagram Showing Arrangement of Trees and Shrubs. 




Diagrams Showing Arrangements of Rivers, Lakes, and Islands. 

From Puckler's Atlas, 1834. 



plantations 203 

plant and in the animal and for that matter in man? 
Do they not break through boundary lines and over- 
lap? Does not something of a personaHty, a spirit or 
soul, appear in the widely differing forms of all three 
of them? 

Aristotle says in explanation of this line of thought : 

"Now all things in the universe are so somehow 
ordered together, whatever swims in the sea, or 
flies in the air, or grows on the earth, but not all in 
like fashion; nothing exists apart and without some 
kind of relation with the rest, for all things are or- 
dered in relation with one end. " 

Hegel writes as follows in Philosophy of Religion: 

"it belongs to the very nature of unity that it should 
thus break up into parts," 

and that each of these parts should have distinct 
relations of its own, which become eventually one 
complete scheme or whole, and with 

"this individuality goes in each case the natural 
impulse of self-preservation — what Spinoza calls 
the conatus in suo esse perseverandi, the effort to" 

maintain its own being ; but why should not we say of 
the tree as of man, only in different degree, that here 

"the conatus in suo esse perseverandi swells into a 
demand for happiness, for a perfect completion and 
manifestation of its special being in which nothing 
shall be left to be wished or hoped for?" 



204 XanbBcape Hrcbftecture 

"It has taken a long process of evolution before 
man could conceive the idea of a rational organic 
order of the universe, in which each particular ele- 
ment, though rejected as an end in itself, might be 
reinstated as a necessary element of the whole, and 
all with justice done to their special characteristics 
might be united in " ^ 

an all-embracing scheme, whether it be a landscape or a 
whole world. Further we may say that even in the 
consciousness of an animal (and why not in that of 
a plant?) there is such a universal unity that it would 
be absurd to treat its different appetites as isolated or 
standing in merely external relations to each other. 
Each animal and plant we may believe 

' ' feels itself in all it feels, and this gives an individual 
unity to its life through all its changes," "indeed 
three fourths of our own actions are governed by 
memory and most frequently we act like animals: 
plants also act, and if they do not think, at least feel 
(which is still thought), though more dimly than 
animals." ^ 

As Goethe profoundly observes : 

"the material world (animal or vegetable, animate 
or inanimate) can only be truly realized as the living 
garment of Deity. " 

John Henry Newman was a poet and his instinct had 

' Leibnitz. 




Diagrams Showing Arrangement of Trees and Shrubs. 




A Diagram Showing Different Arrangements of Islands. 

From Piickler's Atlas, 1S34. 



plantations 205 

an element of truth in it when he wrote as follows 
in his Apologia sua Vita: 

"Again I ask what would be the thoughts of a 
man who when examining a flower, or an herb, or a 
pebble, or a ray of light, which he treats as something 
so beneath him in the scale of existence, suddenly 
discovered that he was in the presence of some 
powerful being who was hidden behind the visible 
things he was inspecting, — who though concealing 
the wise hand, was giving them their beauty, grace, 
and perfection, as being God's instruments for the 
purpose, — nay, whose robe and ornaments those 
objects were, which he was so eager to analyse?" 

Following the idea of a plant possessing a distinct 
personality, it will be found that it is not altogether 
fanciful. Some trees and shrubs and flowers in the land- 
scape have, in a way, a liking for each other, a kind of 
kinship, that is not of the botanical sort, but simply 
an apparent wish to grow side by side. A bush honey- 
suckle naturally likes to live with a highbush cranberry 
or an arrowwood bush ( Viburnum dentatum) ; the lilac, 
on the other hand, belongs by itself in the garden in 
a m.ore civilized sophisticated state of existence; the 
beautiful hawthorns, both American and English, 
belong by themselves in the wilder and more outlying 
portions of the park or estate. So we might go on 
with shrubs and trees of all kinds and find always that 
there was one spot and one kind of companionship 
where any particular tree or shrub looked especially 



2o6 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

happy and behaved especially well. Considering plants 
as live creatures, whose strange idiosyncrasies are often 
seemingly almost past finding out except by the most 
sympathetic and penetrative study, we should start 
first to dispose certain of them in the landscape design 
as if we were blocking in the outlines of a picture indicat- 
ing the main and controlling features of the group or 
place. To mark this distinctive character only a few 
kinds of trees, shrubs, and flowers are really necessary, 
the ones that assume such forms that the eye instinc- 
tively singles them out in any group. It may be said, 
with truth, that a park could be planted effectively 
with twelve trees, twelve shrubs, and twelve herbaceous 
plants. This means that if such kinds as an oak or 
elm, a linden, a maple, a plane tree, a birch, a spruce, a 
pine, a yew, an iris, a hollyhock, a phlox, a chrysanthe- 
mum were chosen, it would be quite possible to make 
a great place, perfectly designed in all essential ways. 
Of course, it would not be the greatest effect possible, 
because it would lack the fine, more recondite inter- 
mediate gradations of colour and form that would come 
in a less distinctive fashion from the employment of a 
large variety of hardy ornamental plants. It is not 
only necessary to punctuate, as it were, with marked 
trees and shrubs, the outlines or articulations of each 
member of the group, but of the group within the 
group, so that the lineaments of these familiar con- 
structive features may direct the eye to the actual 
composition of the design. 

Further than this, it is necessary to go on to the 




Lvchn!a\^siaria fl. pl«no 
•SrHn^ perfica 
Campanala medium 
Cvtiliut clongotus 
Svrin^ vulgfa-is fl. coeruleo 

Tjiffiim buQuf enaxn 

Rabtu od*ratiu 
Spiraea liyji er i c if olia 
Lomccra. tartarica fl. nibro, 
Rib»« anreum 

I.iutaria vpdern'a 

Roiia centifblia. 

S*}vin^a cidnnuia 

Syrin^a vulgaris fl. albo 

A Diagram Showing 



,6" Khus CotmuA 

/g Poteatilla iruticoaa 

^ Syrii<a vulgaris fl. rubro 

/S. 5pirara falicifolia fL rubro 

i/ Rip aver lirarteata 

f? Rtvladelphus coronarius 

.*' fraetaerftia oxia cajitha D. pleiio nibro 

2^ Colutea.arboreJiens 

'Z^ Tapaver bracteata 

Arrangement of Shrubs and Herbaceous Plants. 

From Piickler's Atlas, 1834. 



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plantations 207 

establishment of a type of tree grouping, as well as 
shrubs and flowers, and make units of effect which may- 
be used with variations over and over again, as far as 
their combinations of high and low size and contradic- 
tions or contrasts of colour and form will permit. One 
mass will now for a moment conflict with another and 
then flow over and blend with it. There will be sharp 
contrasts and then gradually the smoothest blendings. 
It is difficult to convey the idea of just how this can be 
done. It takes long practice and the study of nature 
in many moods. The observant eye well recognizes 
in fields and forest glades wonderful exhibitions of how 
such work can be accomplished. It will be discovered 
how the black alder grows among its native compan- 
ions; who are these companions, how they behave 
when associated together, what soil and what exposure 
they like. An intimate knowledge of each should be 
acquired. 

The types of growth should be allowed to assert 
themselves freely. Instead of a group of high and low 
growths, a single tree, or three specimens, may stand 
out almost alone with a few attendant shrubs trailing 
along in the neighbourhood. Perhaps farther on there 
may be a different kind of tree standing on the very 
edge of a solid group with a few scattering shrubs around 
it. Then again there will be one noble specimen of 
tree form standing entirely alone as if it were sufficient 
unto itself and brooked no companion, or there might 
be several in a grove. Such trees are, whether out in 
the middle of the lawn, or in a grassy glade near a path, 



2o8 XanDscape Brcbitecture 

the one most valuable feature of the picture. They 
lend dignity and character more than any other mem- 
ber of the association of trees and shrubs growing on the 
lawn, and, when combined with the loosely planted 
shrubs in the neighbourhood, a mystical and enlarged 
effect in the distance is often thus produced which is 
of the greatest value in the landscape. The following 
quotation may give some suggestion of how such a 
difficult grouping should be managed: 

"[A newly planted group] or a natural woods 
properly thinned out seems to show an inlet into a 
wood that has been cut, if the opposite points of the 
entrance tally, that gives a show of art and depreci- 
ates its merit; but a difference only in the situation 
of those points, by bringing one more forward than 
the other, prevents the appearance though the forms 
be similar. Other points which distinguish the 
great parts should in general be strongly marked; a 
short turn has more spirit in it than a tedious cir- 
cuity ; and a line broken by angles has a precision and 
firmness which in an undulated line are wanting: 
the angles should, indeed, commonly be a little 
softened; the rotundity of the plant which forms 
them is sometimes sufficient for the purpose; but if 
they are mellowed down too much they lose all mean- 
ing. Three or four large parts, thus boldly dis- 
tinguished, will break a very long outline; more may 
be, and often ought to be, thrown in, but seldom are 
necessary: when two woods are opposed on the sides 



lIMantatlons 209 

of a narrow glade, neither has so much occasion for 
variety in itself, as if it were single: if they are very 
different from each other, the contrast supplies the 
deficiency in each, and the interval is full of variety. 
The form of that interval is, indeed, of as much con- 
sequence as its own; though the outline of both the 
woods be separately beautiful, yet if together they 
do not cast the open space into an agreeable figure, 
the whole scene is not pleasing; and the figure is 
never agreeable when the sides too closely cor- 
respond; whether they are exactly the same, or 
exactly the reverse of each other, they equally 
appear artificial. 

Every variety of outline hitherto mentioned may 
be traced by the underwood alone, but frequently the 
same effects may be produced with more ease, and 
with much more beauty, by a few trees standing out 
from the thicket, and belonging to, or seeming to 
belong to, the wood so as to make a part of its figure. 
Even where they are not wanted for that purpose, 
detached trees are such agreeable objects, so distinct, 
so light, when compared to the covert about them, 
that skirting along it in some parts, and breaking it 
in others, they give an unaffected grace, which can 
no otherwise be given to the outline. They have a 
still further effect, when they stretch across the whole 
breadth of an inlet, or before part of a recess in the 
woods; they are themselves shown to advantage by 
the space between them, and that space seen between 
their stems they in turn throw into an agreeable 



210 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

perspective. An inferior grace of the same kind may 
be often introduced, only by distinguishing the boles 
of some trees in the wood itself, and keeping down the 
thicket beneath them. Where this cannot be well 
executed, still the outline may be filled with such 
trees and shrubs as swell out in the middle of their 
growth and diminish at both ends; or with such as 
rise in a slender cone ; with those whose branches tend 
upwards ; or whose base is very small in proportion to 
their height ; or which are very thin of boughs and of 
leaves. In a confined garden scene which wants 
room for the effect of detached trees, the outline will 
be heavy, if these little attentions are disregarded. 
As for the kind of trees to be used, good taste and 
experience must be left to make the selection."^ 

The following words of Richard Jefferies will perhaps 
be found helpful as explaining how the character of 
trees counts in the landscape : 

"I listened to the sweet Briar Wind; but for weeks 
and weeks the dark black oaks stood straight out of 
the snow as masts of ships with furled sails frozen 
and ice-bound in the haven of the deep valley. " 

"Thick are Hawthorn leaves, many deep on the 
spray; and beneath them there is a twisted and 
interentangled winding in and out of boughs, such as 
no curious ironwork of ancient artist could equal; 
through the leaves and metal work of boughs the soft 
west wind wafts us at his ease. " 

' Thomas Whately, Observations on Modern Gardening. 



plantations 211 

"The bark of the beech is itself a panel to study, 
spotted with velvet moss brown green, made grey by 
close-grown lichens, stained with its own hues of 
growth and toned by time. To these add bright 
sunlight and leaf shadow, the sudden lowering of 
tint as a cloud passes, the different aspects of the day 
and of the evening, and the change of rain and dry 
weather. You may look at the bark of a beech 
twenty times, and always find it different. There is 
another spirit among beech trees ; they look like deer 
and memories of old English Life. " 

The sense of distant space outside of the estate is 
always desirable. If these single trees and scattering 
shrubs can seem to lose themselves over the crest of a 
hill into the sky it increases the mystery and sense of 
largeness, the feeling that one might own the Universe. 
Richard JefTeries expresses this idea when he writes as 
follows in Field and Hedgerow: 

"Still higher and as the firs cease, and shower and 
sunshine, wind and dew can reach the ground un- 
checked, comes the tufted heath branched heather of 
the moorland top. A thousand acres of purple 
heather sloping southward to the sun, deep valleys 
of dark heather, further slopes beyond of purple, more 
valleys of heather — the heath shows more in the sun- 
light, and heather darkens the shadows of the hollows 
— and so on and on, mile after mile, till the heath 
bells seem to end in the sunset. Round and beyond 
is the immense plain of the air — you feel how Hmit- 



212 Xanbscape Brcbitecture 

less the air is at this height, for there is nothing to 
measure it by. Past the weald lie the south Downs, 
but they form no boundary, the plain of the air goes 
over them to the sea and space. " 

It is really a case of simplicity in variety, a type 
repeated and varied, becoming something new con- 
tinually, evolving new charms, yet keeping in view a 
definite and foreordained unified beauty that is active 
and changing, but unlike a river that flows on and on, 
the type is ever returning on itself, melting together 
and anon conflicting, contrasting, dominating one over 
the other, and all the time actively advancing to new 
conquests of beauty, to new charms of blended form and 
colour. It is like the way the association of mother 
and child actively helps to develop the beauties of the 
characters of each person, bringing out the charm more 
and more the longer they live together, or if mismanage- 
ment of their relations occurs, the same tendency to 
discord and deterioration will reveal itself. The trees 
and shrubs are worked into a scheme, type within 
type making the picture fuse together after presenting 
different degrees of contrast, and finally wooing it to 
enter into a union where the parts are hardly perceptible 
to the general sweep of the eye. The play of forces ends 
in a picture, which in every way continues to change 
day by day while remaining of the same general char- 
acter. If the woodland glades and the fields and hedge- 
row are studied in the light of these suggestions, their 
value will be more and more verified. The only differ- 



plantations 213 

ence is that there will be then a conscious recognition of 
the truth, whereas in the many cases that have already 
happened in the past, the best kind of such landscape 
work has been done on instinctively right lines. The 
best work is usually done by a man who cannot tell you 
why he did it. 

The experience of thinning out forest trees in connec- 
tion with a park or country place will teach many things 
if it is done seriously. Most people do not carry it on 
seriously. It is really almost as difficult an undertak- 
ing as to create a new place. It will be found that all 
the above ideas enunciated should be controlling in the 
management of this work, and its combination with new 
planting is the most difficult task of all. Thomas 
Whately gives the following advice, which is good as 
far as it goes but it does not go quite far enough : 

" It is not however foreign to the subject to observe, 
that the effects that have been recommended may 
sometimes be produced by wood alone, without any 
alteration in the ground itself: a tedious continued 
line may by such means be broken ; it is usual for this 
purpose to place several little clumps along a brow ; 
but if they are small and numerous the artifice is weak 
and apparent : an equal number of trees collected into 
one or two large masses, and dividing the line into 
very unequal parts is less suspicious, and obliterates 
the idea of sameness with more certainty. When 
several similar lines are seen together, if one be 
planted, and the other bare, they become contrasts to 



214 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

each other. A hollow in certain situations has been 
mentioned as a disagreeable interruption to a con- 
tinued surface ; but filled with wood, the heads of the 
trees supply the vacancy ; the irregularity is preserved ; 
even the inequalities of the depth are in some meas- 
ure shown, and a continuation of surface is provided. 
Rising ground may, on the other hand, be in appear- 
ance raised still higher, by covering it with wood, of 
humble growth toward the bottom and gradually 
taller as it ascends. An additional mark of the 
inclination of falling ground may also be obtained 
by placing a few trees in the same direction, which 
will strongly point out the way ; whereas plantations 
athwart a descent, bolster up the ground, and check 
the fall; but obliquely crossing it, they will often di- 
vert the general tendency; the ground will in some 
measure assume their direction, and they will make 
a variety not a contradiction. Hedges, or continued 
plantations, carried over uneven ground, render the 
irregularities more conspicuous, and frequently mark 
little inequalities which would otherwise escape ob- 
servation: or if a line of trees run close upon an 
edge of an abrupt fall, they give it depth and impor- 
tance. By such means a view may be improved ; by 
similar means in more confined spots, very material 
purposes may be answered. 

"Though the surface of the wood when commanded 
deserves all these attentions, yet the outline more 
frequently calls for our regard ; it is also more in our 
power; it may sometimes be great, and may always 



DMantations 215 

be beautiful. The first requisite is irregularity. 
That a mixture of trees and underwood should form 
a long straight line, can never be natural; and a suc- 
cession of easy sweeps and gentle rounds, each 
a portion of a greater or less circle, composing alto- 
gether a line literally serpentine, is if possible worse. 
It is but a number of regularities put together in 
a disorderly manner, and equally distant from the 
beautiful both of art and of nature. The true beauty 
of outline consists more in breaks than in sweeps; 
rather in angles than in rounds; in variety, not in 
succession. 

"The outline of a wood is a continued line, and 
small variations do not save it from the insipidity of 
sameness. One deep recess, one bold prominence, has 
more effect than twenty little irregularities. That 
one divides the line into parts, but no breach is 
thereby made in its unity; a continuation of wood 
always remains; the form of it only is altered, and 
the extent is increased. The eye, which hurries to 
the extremity of whatever is uniform, delights to 
trace a varied line through all its intricacies, to pause 
from stage to stage, and to lengthen the progress. 
The parts must not, however, on that account, be 
multiplied, till they are too minute to be interesting, 
and so numerous as to create confusion. A few large 
parts should be strongly distinguished in their forms, 
their directions, and their situations; each of them 
may afterwards be decorated with subordinate varie- 
ties ; and the mere growth of the plants will occasion 



2i6 3Lant)Bcape Hrcbitecture 

some irregularity ; on many occasions more will not be 
required. Every variety in the outline of a wood must 
be a prominence or a recess. Breadth in either is not 
so important as length to the one and depth to the 
other. If the former ends in an angle, the latter di- 
minishes to a point, they have more force than a shal- 
low dent, or a dwarf excrescence, how wide so ever. 
They are greater deviations from the continued line 
which they are intended to break ; and their effect is 
to enlarge the wood itself, which seems to stretch 
from the most advanced point, back beyond the most 
distant to which it retires. The extent of a large 
wood on a flat, not commanded, can by no circum- 
stance be so manifestly shown, as by a deep recess; 
especially if that deep recess winds so as to conceal the 
extremity and leave the imagination to pursue it."^ 

It is not sufficiently realized by most people, even 
after hard experience, how difficult it is to grow plants 
in the shade among the roots of a piece of woodland. 
It would be easy to mention several trees and shrubs 
that have the reputation of doing well when planted 
in the woods, which in the final test generally fail. 
The presence of freshly cultivated and enriched soil, 
either on the ground or brought from elsewhere, will 
greatly encourage the growth of such plants, but to 
really succeed a great deal of light should be let in, 
and even under such circumstances too much confidence 
in the expected good results should not prevail. 

' Observations on Modern Gardening. 



plantations 217 

Plants suitable for landscape gardening purposes 
naturally separate themselves into the following broad 
divisions: Deciduous trees, evergreen trees, deciduous 
shrubs, evergreen shrubs, perennial or herbaceous 
plants, and bedding or subtropical plants. There is no 
intention here of considering the habits, appearance, 
or methods of propagating these plants. Our subject 
is landscape gardening, not horticulture, not arboricul- 
ture or forestry, not soil culture nor grass culture. 
The principles and art of landscape gardening and its 
evolution in nature and history are the topics we are 
studying. 

Evergreens occupy a position and perform functions 
that count greatly in the general purpose of the lawn. 
They produce the solid effects, the strong shadows, the 
enduring colours throughout the season. They shield 
the smaller, or less rugged plants, trees, or shrubs 
from the cold winds of winter, especially of March and 
April. In their alcoves and in the shelters behind their 
promontories they cherish and preserve alive many 
shrubs and perennials (flowers) that would otherwise 
wither under the cold winds and hot suns of early 
spring. Here again that strange instinct is felt which 
makes one like to see a great mass of evergreens inter- 
mingled with hardly any deciduous trees, stretching out 
in sweeping lines of form and colour, spirey and spread- 
ing, low or high, spruce, cedar, hemlock, pine, or juniper, 
blue, silver, green and fiery red, crimson and dainty 
pink, Jime and November, ever changing, boldly 
flaunting, or softly melting into deHcate tender hues. 



2i8 Xanbscape Hrcbitccture 

Evergreens form all the year round a very positive 
feature in the landscape, and require the nicest disposi- 
tion of colour and form to establish pleasant and harmo- 
nious relations between different members of the lawn 
vegetation. There are colours of trees and shrubs that 
are offensive, why it is rather difficult to say. For one 
thing they are striped yellow or white and come at a 
time of the year which makes them look unnatural. 
It is not the maples and dogwoods to which we refer. 
Their clothing in June and October or November is 
always charming, and so are the silver firs and the 
larches in early summer: — but what is meant, for in- 
stance, is not the densiflora pine of Japan, grand in its 
panoply of green, but a sickly looking and slightly 
repulsive form of the same species which when striped 
and variegated with gold is called the sun ray pine. 
White may be of the highest value in the vegetation 
of a landscape, as witness the white birches finding a 
home in small numbers disposed against a background 
of dark evergreens, and yet the variegated ash-leaved 
maple {Negundo acerijolium variegatiim) is of a sickly 
white hue. A single deciduous tree of light foliage 
standing out in front of a mass of evergreens will often 
look well, and so will a small grove of them. It is the 
evergreen type and the deciduous, properly related, 
and used over and over again, that pleases — conflicting, 
triumphing, and then traiHng off or losing each other, 
in the midst of the blending always distinct and in 
some way each asserting its own individuahty, but 
never carelessly mingling or failing to persist in an evi- 



BMantatfons 219 

dently preconceived, though ceaselessly varying, type 
or method of- growing. 

Besides the type of leafage, form, and colour, there is 
to be considered the still more positive character of the 
trunk, branches, and twigs, stark and bare in winter 
and early spring. The white birch already noted is 
one, and there are hosts of others. They stand out, 
the white oak, for instance, against a lurid winter 
sunset, or they glitter after an ice storm, showing their 
strange convolution of branches, like the oak and thorn 
described in another chapter by Richard Jefferies. 
There is- also the fruit of the thorns and wild plums, 
chokeberries, black alders, viburnums, and roses, 
hanging in some cases all winter on their naked stems. 

All these separate qualities in a tree or shrub need 
to be handled in a sympathetic way in the composition 
of a year round landscape. It may be asked how this is 
to be done. Certainly it is not easy, and few succeed 
in doing it. It can only be done by study, careful 
study, of the nature of the trees and shrubs and their 
behaviour in hundreds of instances on the lawn and in 
the field and woods, and some help can, of course, be 
had by reference to books and prints enabling one to 
pursue the trail of experience, and to finally attain to 
something really worth accomplishing. Did you ever 
hear of a man, a city clerk, who on a small city lot grew 
such flowers that finally his wonderful horticultural 
skill astonished his correspondents the world over. 
He did not accomplish these great triumphs by means 
of books, but books helped him. 



220 Xan^scape Brcbitecture 

Perennial plants need treatment in the scheme of 
the landscape gardener in the same general way as trees 
and shrubs, both deciduous and evergreen. They 
play a subordinate part, though a no less attractive one 
in the scheme. " They should stand apart in colonies or 
in clusters at the feet of the shrubs and even of the 
trees; they should carpet the glades and borders of 
the shrub groups with trilliums and anemones, and 
even snowdrops in protected nooks. The iris and the 
daffodil and the water-lilies all have their places, one 
in the moist edge of the stream, the other a little higher 
up, and the last in two feet of water. There is always 
a way to associate them happily with their larger but 
not more beautiful companions, the trees and shrubs. 
This association is really necessary for the fullest de- 
velopment of the beauty of the perennial wild flower. 

Of the annuals and the bedding and tropical plants 
nearly as good words can be said, for each in its way is 
just as beautiful and valuable as the other, provided it is 
set in its own appointed place, as designated by nature 
when her secrets have been revealed to the man who 
makes the landscape. In the chapter on Gardens is an 
illustration showing how this bedding should be man- 
aged and fitted into a natural scheme of this kind of 
planting, and so we leave the problem of bedding for 
each one to work out for himself, finding it on the 
whole one of the most difficult and perhaps most 
fascinating of any within the range of landscape garden- 
ing. 

It has already been pointed out that the vegetation 



plantations 221 

of a new place should be conformed to already existing 
growths peculiar to the region. This does not mean 
that no trees save those that naturally grow in the 
neighbourhood should be used. There are many other 
trees and shrubs of kindred habit and hardiness and 
appearance but foreign in origin that suit a particular 
territory: in other words, the spirit and nature of the 
scenery of the country should be made the key to 
the harmony of the plantations. A quotation from 
the writings of the late Charles Eliot pertaining to this 
subject may make it more clear: 

"Within the area of the United States we have 
many types of scenery and many climates, but in 
designing the surroundings of dwellings, in working 
upon the landscape, we too often take no account of 
these facts. On the rocky coast of Maine each sum- 
mer sees money worse than wasted in endeavouring 
to make Newport lawns on ground which naturally 
bears countless lichen-covered rocks, dwarf pines 
and spruces, and thickets of sweet-fern, bayberry, 
and wild rose. The owners of this particular type 
of country spend thousands in destroying its natural 
beauty with the intention of attaining to a foreign 
beauty, which in point of fact is unattainable in any- 
thing like perfection by reason of the shallow soil 
and frequent droughts. I know too many of these 
unhappy 'lawns.' Ledges too large to be buried 
or blasted protrude here and there. They are 
bare and bleached now, though they were once half 



222 Xan&6cape Brcbitecture 

smothered in all manner of mixed shrubbery; the 
grass is poor and, wherever the underlying rock is 
near the surface, all is ugliness where once was only 
beauty. Moreover, if the lawn were perfect and 
truly English, how would it harmonize with the 
pitch pine and scrub birches and dwarf junipers 
which clothe the lands around? No, the English 
park with its great trees and velvet turf is supremely 
beautiful in England where it is simply the natural 
scenery perfected; but save in those favoured parts 
of North America where the natural conditions ap- 
proximate those of the old country, the beauty of 
it cannot be had and should not be attempted. 

"To be sure, the countries of the continent of 
Europe all have their so-called English parks, but the 
best of these possess little or none of the real English 
character and charm. The really beautiful parks of 
Europe are those which have a character of their own 
derived from their own conditions of climate and 
scene. The parks of Paulovsk near St. Petersburg, 
of Muskau in Silesia, of the villa Thuret on the cape 
of Antibes in the Mediterranean are none of them 
English, except as England was the mother of the 
natural as distinguished from the architectural in 
gardening. The Thuret park, if I may cite an illus- 
tration of my meaning, is a wonderland of crowded 
vegetation, of ways deep, shaded by rich and count- 
less evergreens, of steep open slopes aglow with 
bright anemones. Between the high masses of 
eucalyptus and acacia are glimpses of the sea, and 



IPlantations 223 

of the purple foothills and the gleaming snow peaks 
of the Maritime Alps, In the thickets are laurels, 
pittosporums, gardenias, etc., from the ends of the 
earth: but ilex, phillyrea, and oleander are natives of 
the country, and myrtle and pistacia are the com- 
mon shrubs of the seashore, so that the foreigners are 
only additions to an original wealth of evergreens. 
The garden also has its palms of many species, with 
cycads, yuccas, aloes, and the like; but the agaves 
are common hedge plants of the country, and strange 
euphorbias grow everywhere about: moreover, the 
most monstrous of these creatures are given a space 
apart in the main garden, so that they may not dis- 
turb the quiet of the scene. M. Thuret saved the 
olives and the ilexes of the original hillside. He did 
not try to imitate the gardening of another and dif- 
ferent country or climate but simply worked to en- 
hance the beauty natural to the region of his choice. 
"At the other end of Europe all this is equally 
true of Paulo vsk. Here at the edge of the wet and 
dismal plain on which St. Petersburg is built, is a 
stretch of upland almost featureless, but which 
thanks to a careful helping of nature is now the most 
interesting and beautiful bit of scenery the neighbour- 
hood of the Tsar's capital can show. Here is no 
futile striving after the loveliness of England or any 
other foreign land; no attempting the beauty of a 
mountain country or a rocky country or a warm 
country, or any other country than just this country 
that lies around St. Petersburg; here also is no 



224 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

planting of incongruous specimens and no out-of- 
place flower bedding. The park of Muskau teaches 
the same lesson, and under conditions closely resem- 
bling those of our Middle States. 

"The lawns or open stretches or glades of turf are 
just as carefully considered, it will be noticed, in the 
semitropical park and luxuriant vegetation of the 
Antibes as in England or Russia. The open spaces 
with bordering foliage, the pastoral, the picturesque, 
have the same justification and interest given them 
here as in England or America. "' 

The philosophy of the development of lawn planting 
has come in the present day to mean far more than it 
did in the days of our fathers, in spite of the fact that 
the modem period appears to be one of fads and faddists, 
of Italian and old-fashioned gardens, of blue spruces 
and yellow Japan cypresses. In the eighteenth century 
there was little difference between the landscape archi- 
tect and the architect; indeed it was the architect and 
gardener who generally designed the entire place. 
The name landscape architect was unknown. 

To-day we have an outdoor art of many cultures, 
notably architectural and horticultural, the antago- 
nisms of which have produced a play of forces which has 
tended to break up into various parts the formal and 
rigid landscape rules of classic and mediaeval times. 
Extravagances of many kinds have naturally made 
themselves evident, yet these very antagonisms are 

' Garden and Forest, vul i., April 4, 1888, p. 64. 



ipiantations 225 

doing good work; giving renewed and vivid life to 
landscape gardening and thrusting its roots deeper and 
deeper towards the heart of nature. Every part of 
outdoor art is coming to have its place, never quite its 
perfect place, but nearer and nearer to the highest 
standards. Antagonisms always lead to continually 
renewed activity and larger fruitfulness. Although 
antagonism sometimes means conquest and even defeat 
and death of a sort, it is only a case of dying to live 
and to reach heights of accomplishment previously 
inconceivable. 
15 



XIII 



MAINTENANCE 



" IT is quite impossible to plant a large extensive 
I park so that it can present the same picture 
when full grown as it did at the beginning, only 
on an altered scale, and the objects in it are for ever 
after in the right relation to one another, — since 
nature cannot be calculated so accurately and it 
would also take too much time. 

"Here we meet with the drawback of our art, in a 
certain sense — though it may also be regarded as an 
advantage. For it is impossible to create a finished, 
permanent work of art in landscape gardening, such 
as the painter, sculptor, and architect are able to 
produce, because our material is not inanimate, but 
living; we can say of the landscape gardener's art, 
as of all nature's own pictures, as Fichte said of the 
German language, "It is about to be, but never is." 
That is, it never stands still, can never be fixed and 
left to itself. Hence a skilful guiding hand is al- 
ways necessary for works of this kind. If the hand 
is lacking too long they not only deteriorate, they 
become something quite different, but if the hand is 

226 



/iDalntenance 227 

present, beauties are continually being added without 
losing or sacrificing those already in existence. The 
chief tool which we use for construction, i.e., our 
brush and chisel, is the spade, the chief tool for 
maintenance and improvement is the axe. It must 
not rest for a single winter, or it will happen to us 
with the trees as it did with the water-carriers in 
the Tale of the ' Wizard's Apprentice ' — they will 
grow over our heads. "^ 

It is more than a case of overcrowding a design which 
is always about to be but never is, in Fichte's phrase. 
It is also in other words always becoming, an ebb and 
flow, an unceasing evolution of skilled results, contin- 
ually improvement, or retrogression, deterioration, and 
decay. Nature never stands still. It is ever increasing 
life or ever increasing decay, oscillation between the 
two, steadily or spasmodically, as the one gets the 
upper hand of the other. Consequently the maintenance 
and care must be unceasing and vigilant and based 
on penetrating study of new conditions as they arise. 
The seasons, cold, heat, drought, insect life, fungi, and 
pests of every sort, all need to be watched intelligently 
and continually. 

It is a common saying that he, or she, knows how to 
make a plant grow. It thrives under his hand. A 
great propagator handles plants like a wizard. There is 
something, people think, uncanny in such successful 
operations. But, after all, it is chiefly a matter of 

' Prince Piickler, Hints on Landscape Gardening. 



228 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

maintenance. Seed is sown, a cutting or a small plant 
is set out, or a graft is set in a stock; one must know 
how to do it; but nine tenths of the success attained 
comes from an unceasing conflict with adverse condi- 
tions, eventually finding in the process of development 
the brief poise and equilibrium of a mature and success- 
fully grown shrub or tree. Intimate, loving comprehen- 
sion of the nature of the plant can alone do this. It 
would seem that love is actually necessary to achieve 
the greatest results even in growing a plant, but love 
without knowledge can accomplish little, as many 
an amateur horticulturist has learned to his cost. 
Knowledge generally comes from long, heart-breaking 
failure and diligent, oft-repeated effort. The man who 
hires such work done, even with practically unlimited 
means, seldom gets as good results as some enthusiastic 
amateur — crank his neighbours probably dub him — who 
works night and day whenever he has a moment to spare 
to give to his plants. And there is incessant work 
to do. There is planting to be done every little while 
throughout the seasons, spring, summer, fall, and winter, 
especially if the work is supplemented by a greenhouse. 
There is always pruning of some sort, pinching if 
nothing else, and warfare always on insects, weeds to 
fight and watering to be done, and cultivation, spading, 
hoeing, and mulching to be maintained. 

It is difficult to realize what such maintenance means 
when it is faithfully carried out, unless one has been 
responsible for it himself. There are endless ways for 
maintenance to present its exacting demands. The 



/IDaintenance 229 

lawn, for instance, grows bare in spots and needs rich 
soil spread over it and then to be reseeded, and, if the 
seed does not take on account of dry weather, then 
seeding again during a favourable spell. Few spots on 
an estate or in a park need more intelligent care than a 
lawn. The time apparently never comes when it can 
be forgotten any more than anything else on the place, 
although it is perhaps more neglected than almost 
anything. To mow the lawn every two or three weeks 
is often all that is done, whereas the weeds and rain will 
come at various intervals and thus make extra work. 
If the soil has been properly prepared and the right 
kind of clean seed used in making the lawn, there should 
however be little need of weeding. Pruning trees and 
shrubs may be done during nearly every month in the 
year, either in the old wood or the new, and there is 
hardly a time except in the depth of winter when noxious 
insects do not call for attention. And for each of these 
various operations, special knowledge and trained skill 
are needed. It is results obtained in this diligent way 
that have gained the unrivalled horticultural fame of 
the Chinese and Japanese. Verily! how do they do it? 
It is actually uncanny, and yet perhaps after all it is 
only intelligent maintenance, the skill of which, coming 
down through generations, is a possible explanation of it. 
All the processes, however, all the knowledge that 
goes to the maintenance of a park or estate does not 
fall within the province of this book devoted chiefly 
to the discussion of ideas and illustrations. Reference 
is made in the bibliography to works on special sub- 



230 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

jects from which enough can be readily learned to 
enable any one to intelligently employ, if necessary, 
experts of sufficient knowledge and skill to do good 
work in the various departments of maintenance. In 
time, knowledge will doubtless come in this way to the 
owner of the place, and he will find the occupation of 
supervising such work a pleasure and even a delight. 
There will be failures and many accidents, but a fair 
degree of success will make the memory of the misfor- 
tunes soon grow dim in the joy of horticultural achieve- 
ment. 

The chief reason that this supreme excellence of 
maintenance is seldom attained is that few people 
acquire enough knowledge to know fine maintenance 
when they see it. Even if they have given long and 
what they consider diligent attention to their place, 
grown wonderful roses, or hothouse grapes, by means 
of a clever gardener, when they go about the world 
their kind of training hardly enables them to realize the 
quality of good maintenance. It would be well if 
more people prided themselves on the well-being of their 
whole estate, rather than some single feature of it, a 
rose garden, a greenhouse, a scheme of carpet beds or of 
foliage plants. By a well maintained place it should 
not be understood, however, that the standard of high 
excellence necessarily implies a swept and garnished and 
polished place such as one sees occasionally in Paris 
and elsewhere. Cleanliness and neatness are all very 
well, but they are overdone when the trees and shrubs 
are trimmed and trained until they hardly look like 



Maintenance 231 

trees and shrubs, and the grass is mown till the roots 
are almost bare; where the presence of a stray leaf is 
profanation, and sand is spread over the walks and 
drives and raked and swept till they look like the sanded 
floor of a house. The thought at once protrudes itself 
how rich must be the man who can afford to do all this 
superfine work. 

The kind of maintenance that is sane and sensible is 
not neatness and cleanliness only, but high development, 
not abnormal culture, but a happy condition of free, 
healthy growth with the accidents and defects and 
diseases always incident to life well looked after; 
otherwise, nothing extraordinary, just steady, easy 
growth that a sense of proper re-adjustment accom- 
plishes without apparent effort, much as we find that 
the appearance of a well dressed man or woman is not 
noticed but unconsciously enjoyed. Such a place 
cannot be developed under the eye of a mere specialist 
even if he be multiplied many times. It needs the eye 
of a master, who appreciates its possibilities and loves 
to see the beauties of the place develop in an all-round 
manner. It is interesting to observe how artistic de- 
signs conceived in the early construction of Central 
Park have been realized and that fifty years later the 
original intention of the work is more evident by means 
of persistent maintenance than when it was first con- 
structed. 

In the next quotation it will be seen how a conception 
of natural scenery, a landscape poem, was carefully 
thought out in the beginning and constructed at great 



232 Xan^scape Hrcbltecture 

expense. At the present time, on a spring day espe- 
cially, this conception is one of the most inspiring por- 
tions of the park and the most important trees are still 
there. The words of the landscape architects of the 
park are as follows : 

"As an important suggestion springs from this 
observation, we shall be pardoned for referring to a 
portion of Central Park, N. Y., where somewhat 
similar conditions formerly existed and where our 
views have been adopted and realized. Entering 
by the turn to the right at the Merchants' Gate 
(59th St. & C. P. W.) in a few minutes the visitor's 
eye falls upon the open space called the cricket ground 
where originally was a small swamp, enlarged at 
great expense in the construction of the Park in order 
to meet a similar artistic purpose to that above 
explained, by the removal of several large ledges of 
rock, and now occupied by an unbroken meadow 
which extends before the observer to the extent of a 
thousand feet. Here is a suggestion of freedom and 
repose which must in itself be suggestive and tranquil- 
lizing to the visitor coming from the confinement and 
bustle of crowded streets, but this is not all. The 
observer resting for a moment to enjoy the scene, 
which he is induced to do by the arrangement of the 
planting, cannot but hope for still greater space than 
is obvious before him and this hope is encouraged 
first by the fact that though bodies of rock and foliage 
to the right and left obstruct his direct vision, no 



/IDaintenance 233 

limit is seen to the extension of the meadow in a 
lateral direction, while beyond the low shrubs 
which form an undefined border to it in front there 
are no trees or other impediments to vision for a 
distance of half a mile or more and the only distant 
object is the wooded knoll of Vista Rock nearly a 
mile away, upon the summit of which it is an impor- 
tant point in the design not yet realized, to erect a 
slight artificial structure, for the purpose of catching 
the eye and the better holding it in this direction. 
The imagination of the visitor is thus led instinctively 
to form the idea that a broad expanse is opening 
before him, and, the more surely to accomplish this, 
a glimpse of the slope of turf beyond the border of the 
shrubs in the middle distance has been secured. As 
the visitor proceeds, this idea is strengthened and the 
hope which springs from it in a considerable degree 
satisfied, if not actually realized, first by a view of 
those parts of the cricket ground which lie to the right 
and left of his previous field of vision, afterwards by 
the broad expanse of turf on either side and before 
him, which comes into view as he emerges from the 
plantations at or near the marble archway. 

"The carrying out of this most important purpose 
in the scenery of Central Park, owing to the rocky and 
heterogeneous character of the original surface, in- 
volved much more labour and a larger expenditure than 
any other landscape feature of that undertaking."' 

■ Olmsted and Vaux, Sixth Annual Report to Prospect Park Com- 
mission, 1866. 



234 Xanbscape Hrcbitectute 

In considering this type of maintenance which aims 
at perfection, but which is neither superfine or affectedly 
natural, we should always remember that on estates and 
parks pastoral and picturesque are the terms that best 
express what we should seek to create and by mainte- 
nance to retain. There should always be a revealing 
day by day of a new scene, ever picturesque, always 
renewing itself by the help of a ceaseless and intelligent 
maintenance which retains all the essential elements 
that make landscape gardening grateful and sufficing. 

The scene in Central Park in the Ramble well illus- 
trates this idea of the picturesque. The trees are large 
and shadowy, with a quaint old weeping beech in their 
midst and a peaceful lawn extending away from them. 
The grass and the trees show evidence of good mainte- 
nance and the rocks and masses of the foliage have all 
the qualities of the picturesque. 

Isaac Taylor in The Spirit oj Hebrew Poetry has 
beautifull}^ and truly expressed the essential qualities 
of the picturesque, and to create such qualities and to 
retain them in the landscape by sympathetic and skil- 
ful maintenance does certainly compass the highest 
reach of the art of landscape gardening. He says: 

"The poetry of all nations has conserved more or 
less of these elements of the primeval repose; and 
in fact we find them conserved also, and represented 
in that modem feeling — the love of and the taste for 
the picturesque. Modern undoubtedly is this taste, 
which has not developed itself otherwise than in 




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/IDaintenance 235 

connexion with pictorial art in the Department of 
Landscape. What is the picturesque? A question 
not easily answered; yet this is certain, that any 
attempt that may be made to find an answer for it 
must bring us in contact with the very elements which 
already have been named; and which are assembled 
in the idea of patriarchal repose, 

"The picturesque is not simply beauty in nature — 
it is not luxuriance ; it is not amplitude and vastness ; 
it is not copiousness; it is not the fruit of man's 
interference : but rather it is the consequence of an 
indolent acquiescence on his part in things as they are 
or as they have become ; the picturesque belongs to the 
foreground always, or to the stage next beyond the 
foreground — never does it take its range beyond 
the horizon. The picturesque claims as its own 
the cherished and delicious ideas of deep seclusion, 
of lengthened, undisturbed continuance, and of the 
absence, afar off, of those industrial energies which 
mark their presence by renovations, by removals, 
and by a better order of things, and by signs of busy 
industry and of thriftiness and order. 

"Within the sacred precincts of the pictiu-esque, 
the trees must be such as have outlived the winters of 
centuries, and been green through the scorching heats 
of unrecorded sultry summers: they stoop and yet 
hold up giant gnarled branches, leafy at the extreme 
sprays; and their twistings are such that they look 
supernatural, seen against an autumnal evening sky. 
The fences that skirt the homestead of the pictur- 



236 Xant)6cape Hrcbitecture 

esque must have done their office through the occu- 
pance of three or four generations. The dwellings of 
man must declare themselves such as have sheltered 
the hoary quietude of sires long ago gone to their 
graves. Inasmuch as the picturesque abjures change 
it rejects improvement, it abhors the square, the per- 
pendicular, the horizontal, and it likes rather all forms 
that now are other than at first they were, and that 
lean this way and that way and that threaten to fall ; 
but so did the same building threaten a fall a century 
ago! In a word, the picturesque is the Conservation 
of Landscape Beauty. It is where the picturesque 
holds undisputed sway that we shall find — or shall 
expect to find — secure and placid longevity — domes- 
tic sanctity and reverence; together with a piety 
that holds more communion with the past than with 
the busy and philanthropic present. Give me only 
the picturesque, and I shall be well content never to 
gaze on tropical luxuriance, or upon Alpine sublimi- 
ties, nor shall ever wish to travel the broad walks 
that surround palaces: shall never be taxed for my 
admiration of those things which wealth and pride 
have superadded to nature. " 

The strange quality of charm may not and yet is 
likely to go with picturesqueness and certainly requires 
consideration in landscape gardening. But it may be 
asked what is charm? Who shall say? Arthur C. 
Benson describing a landscape writes that charm 
"seems to arise partly out of a subtle orderliness and a 



/IDaintcnance 237 

simple appropriateness and from a blending of delicate 
and pathetic elements of a certain unascertained pro- 
portion. It seems to touch unknown memories into 
life and to give a hint of the workings of some whimsical, 
half tenderly conceived spirit brooding over its work, 
adding a touch of form here, and a dash of colour there, 
and pleased to see when all is done that it is good. " 

This is fine, and in a way true, but after all it is only 
an attempt to express the inexpressible. The magic 
and mystery may be there, but the interpretation, who 
will give it? If the charm is there, all will recognize 
it, either consciously or unconsciously, in any bit of 
landscape as well as elsewhere. The best course to 
pursue is to keep the charm as far as possible imtouched 
and to set anything like buildings or plants outside of 
its sphere of influence. Its inherent quality is strangely 
fragile. On the other hand, if one were so fortimate 
as to give something of this subtile charm to a bit of 
landscape work, one should never allow it to be marred 
by a too strict adherence to academic influences; and 
moreover, having once created a picture possessing 
this precious quality, it behooves the artist to cherish 
and maintain his work in the excellent way that has 
been briefly, and all too unsatisfactorily, suggested in 
previous parts of this chapter. 



XIV 



GARDENS 



FROM the discussion of the relative nature of parks 
and gardens there emerges the idea that build- 
ings and gardens and parks are in the scheme of 
landscape gardening only parts of a whole, units in one 
organized creation made up of natural and artificial 
features developed in various ways. The law of con- 
tradictions and contrasts may be made to act here as it 
may everywhere else in landscape gardening to produce 
the most happy effects. There should be no evident 
dividing line between the park and garden where one 
passes into the other. There should be, however, a 
distinct contrast established, it may be by plantations of 
trees or by changing frequently and radically the char- 
acter of the flowers and shrubs, yet the division line 
should be nowhere formal and rigid. For this reason 
hedges as usually seen do not make an agreeable divid- 
ing line between the garden and the lawn or park. 
The transition is too sharp and sudden. In a word it is 
too unnatural, and fails to give the suggestion of blend- 
ing as well as contrast found so characteristic of the 
natural scenes of field and forest. 

238 



Gardens 239 

There are two important elements of design found 
in nearly all parks and gardens ; one of these is architec- 
ture and the other is "free nature " as the Germans term 
it. The law of contradiction or contrast necessarily 
comes into play here as elsewhere, and on the way it is 
applied and the way the spirit of one idea breaks into 
and overflows into the other depends the success of the 
scheme. 

This scheme divides itself naturally into simple parts, 
contrasting and in a sense contradicting each other but 
capable of working out into beautiful pictures. Open 
spaces of grass and bordering plantations with paths 
and roads running through them are the two divisions 
the relations of which should be always kept in mind, 
whether the object be to design a park or a garden, which 
after all are fundamentally the same, only variations 
and combinations of the divisions already indicated. 
It is a question of the rhythm of low and high, of broad 
or narrow masses of vegetation, and the overflow of 
one arrangement into the other. For instance, single 
trees and small masses of shrubs may be used effectively 
out in the open lawn beyond the bordering shrubbery, 
or, on the other hand, the grass spaces may penetrate 
with good effect far into the shrubbery. 

Then, moreover, these types of division may be 
applied to a group of small designs and a number of 
them combined into the main design, which, subject 
to the same law and presenting the same variety of 
types, constitutes the treatment of the estate, gardens, 
lawns, and everything within its bounds. 



240 XanC>scape Hrcbitecture 

Approaching the house from the park and coming to 
the pleasure ground through plantations more or less 
indeterminate in height and breadth, we reach a sort 
of middle ground. This is the pleasure ground, and 
after that comes the garden, as it were, a part of the 
house. 

"The word pleasure ground is difficult to translate 
accurately into German, and I therefore consider it 
better to retain the English expression; it means a 
terrain, abutting on the house territory and decorated 
and fenced in, of far larger dimensions than gardens 
usually are, something that establishes a gradation 
between the park and the true garden, which should 
appear to be really a part of the house. " ^ 

Thomas Whately says in Observations on Modern 
Gardening: 

"If regularity is not entitled to a preference in 
the environs or approach to a house, it would be dif- 
ficult to support its pretensions to a place in any 
more distant parts of a park or a garden. Formal 
slopes of ground are ugly, right or circular lines 
bounding water do not indeed change the nature of 
the element; it still retains some of its agreeable 
properties; but the shape given to it is disgusting. 
Regularity in plantations is less offensive; we are 
habituated, as has been already observed, to straight 
lines of trees, in cultivated nature; a double row 

' Prince Puckler, Hints, etc., on Landscape Gardening. 




The Ariangeinent of the Bedb uf Fuliayc PlaiUb Such as Cannas, Coleuses, and 
Geraniums around the Arsenal, Central Park, New York City. 




Another View of the Arrangement of the Beds nf Foliagr Plants Such as e'annas, 

Coleuses, and Geraniums around the Casino, Central Park, New York City. 

From Photographs by Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons. (Reproduced by Permission.) 



(Bar&ens 241 

meeting at the top, and forming a complete arched 
vista, has peculiar effect; other regular figures have 
a degree of beauty, and to alter or disguise such a 
disposition, without destroying a number of fine 
trees, which cannot well be spared, may sometimes be 
difficult ; but it hardly ever ought to be chosen in the 
arrangement of a young plantation. Regularity was 
once thought essential to every garden, and every 
approach, and it yet remains in many. It is still a 
character, denoting the neighbourhood of a gentle- 
man's habitation; and an avenue as an object in 
the view gives to the house, otherwise inconsiderable, 
the air of a mansion. " 

Here in the pleasure ground the sensation produced 
by the landscape is of more formality, elegance, and 
finish, in other words, a touch of the spirit of the archi- 
tecture should appear, retaining still a predominance of 
the feeling of free nature belonging to the park. The 
shapes of the flower beds should be more irregular as 
well as the outlines of the grass spaces, and the walks 
should be more meandering than in the garden. 

In the garden itself the architectural lines, ovals, 
straight lines, and circular, or any form that fits the 
architecture of the mansion or house are admissible. 
Prince Puckler says in this connexion in his Hints on 
Landscape Gardening: 

"I might repeat here with some variation what I 

have said before: as the park is nature idealized 

within a small compass so the garden is an extended 
16 



242 Xau&scape Hrcbitecture 

dwelling. Here the tastes of the owner may have 
free play, following his imagination and indulging 
even in trivialities. Everything should be decorative, 
designed for comfort ; and as ornamental as the means 
permit. Let the lawns appear as a velvet carpet 
embroidered with flowers ; gather together the rarest 
and the most beautiful exotic plants (provided that 
nature or art will enable them to thrive) ; polished 
benches, refreshing fountains, the cool shades of dense 
avenues, order and fancy, in short everything in turn 
to evoke the richest and most varied effect, just as 
one furnishes every salon in the interior of a house in 
a different style. Thus one may continue the suite 
of rooms on a greater scale under the open sky, whose 
blue vault, with ever-renewed cloud canopy, takes 
the place of the painted ceiling, and in which sun and 
moon are the perpetual illumination." 

But everywhere the same laws of design should con- 
trol — low, broad, or narrow plantations in contrast or 
contradiction with high ones. In the beds of flowers 
the heights of the plants should bear the same relation 
to each other in the garden as grass spaces and trees 
and shrubs in the park; altemanthera making, as it 
were, the grass space, and then coleus and canna, for the 
trees and shrubs. It is not so much a question of the 
kind of plants as their mode of treatment. The law, 
the principle, the type should be the same in all cases. 
The unity of effect is just as important as the variety. ' 

' See flower beds in Central Park, New York, designed by Calvert 
Vaux on this principle. See illustrations on p. 240. 



(Bar&ens 243 

Variety, moreover, in landscape gardening and par- 
ticularly in the garden may assume the guise of mystery 
that may under some circumstances, prove magical in 
effect. One of the supreme feats of landscape garden- 
ing is to suggest surprise, to tempt question as to what 
is behind that bush or tree, or round the next turn of the 
road or path, or over the hill. Wonderful effects of 
the most charming natural character come to us in this 
way. A sweep of grass creeps around yonder point of 
shrubbery and we wonder what is just there in the 
recess. 

"The willow wren sings, but his voice and that of 
the wind seem to give emphasis to the holy and medi- 
tative silence. The mystery of nature and life 
hover about the columned temple of the forest. The 
secret is always behind a tree, as of old time it was 
always behind the pillar of the temple."^ 

The character of the appearance of trees and shrubs 
is so varied at different seasons of the year, in sunshine 
and shadow, rain and clear weather, that there is 
hardly any limit to the mysterious and magical results 
that can be accomplished. Some special tree or shrub 
may lend itself more than another to this mystery and 
magic, and the art of the landscape gardener may do 
much, but in the final result there should appear no 
sense of effort, no loss of easy naturalness, and the law 
of contradiction and contrast should be so applied as to 

* See R. Jefferies, Field and Hedgerow, p. 107. 



244 Xan^scape Brcbltecture 

give the idea of continual change and at the same time 
of adherence to a generally pervading law of arrange- 
ment throughout the entire landscape scheme, for "an 
organic unified scheme is one in which the whole is in 
every part." 

Does this seem hard to understand? If the ac- 
companying plan taken from Prince Piickler's book 
showing how a group of shrubs and trees should be 
constituted or designed is studied the meaning may 
be clearer. Certain spaces it will be seen are occupied 
with shrubs and trees and flowers of various kinds; these 
kinds are made to produce a variation of high and low 
forms and masses of colour related to each other accord- 
ing to a definite scheme which also has its own relation 
as a mass to the surrounding grass space ; the grass space 
has again its own special relation to its environment. 

This type of treatment, with its overlapping and 
predominance of each part as the landscape may 
demand, should repeat itself over and over again 
throughout the space in the garden as well as the park. 
From this statement it is evident that there is no abso- 
lute garden, nor any park in the sense of wild nature. 
Unfortunately there is, however, an antagonism of two 
types or schools of landscape art existing, one archi- 
tectural and one that may be termed natural. The 
architectural school held sway for centuries and pro- 
duced a one-sided landscape art, but, in the renewed 
artistic life of the Renaissance and the followers of 
Rousseau, a violent love of pure nature developed and 
produced in the reaction many fanciful and ill-devised 



6ar&ens 245 

conceptions. One school reacted on the other and 
finally out of the two has developed an art that is like 
neither of the old conceptions, but is a new one which 
uses more architectural lines near the architectural 
features and freer nature farther off. 

"All these little paths were confined and crossed 
by a limpid and clear stream, sometimes circling amid 
the grass and flowers in almost imperceptible threads, 
now in larger streams flowing over a pure mosaic of 
gravel which made the water more transparent. I 
can imagine, said I unto them, a rich man from Paris 
or London master of this house, bringing with him 
an expensive architect to spoil nature. With what 
disdain would he enter this simple, mean place! 
With what contempt would he have all these weeds 
uprooted! What fine avenues he would open out! 
What beautiful valleys he would have pierced! 
What fine goose feet, what fine trees, like parasols 
and fans! What fine fretted trellises! What beauti- 
fully drawn yew hedges, finely squared and rounded ! 
What fine bowling greens of fine English turf, 
rounded, squared, sloped, and ovalled! What fine 
yews carved into dragons, pagodas, marmosets, 
every kind of monster ! With what fine bronze vases, 
what fine stone fruits he would adorn his garden ! 

"The grand air is always melancholy, it makes us 
think of the miseries of the man who affects it. 
Amid his parterres and grand alleys his littleness does 
not increase. 



246 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

"What then will the man of taste do, who lives for 
the sake of living, who can enjoy himself, who seeks 
real and simple pleasures, and who wishes to make 
himself a walk within reach of his house? He will 
make it so commodious and so agreeable that he can 
please himself there at all hours of the day and more- 
over so simple and natural that he seems to have 
done nothing. He will combine water, verdure, shade, 
and coolness, for nature too combines all these 
things; he will give symmetry to nothing that is the 
enemy to nature and variety; and all the alleys of 
an ordinary garden have so strong a resemblance, 
that you think you are always in the same one; he 
will level the soil to walk on it comfortably : but the 
two sides of the alley will not be always exactly 
parallel ; its direction will not be always on a straight 
line, it will have a certain vagueness, like the gait of a 
leisurely man who sways as he walks. " ^ 

The entire scheme, however, as indicated above, is 
coming more and more (as in Central Park, New York, 
and in Germany and England and France) under the 
control throughout of unified laws of design. This has 
given and is giving increasing value for both park and 
garden in the minds of many. 

People seeking to improve their places themselves 
realize in many cases hardly anything of this harmoniz- 
ing of schools, but they will find the best development 
will be on these lines, and landscape architects and 

' Jean Jacques Rousseau, Julie, or the Nouvelle Helo'ise. 



(Barrens 247 

architects do, in many cases, fully realize it, for already 
the garden and the estate or park are frequently thus 
made to correlate themselves. There has been conflict, 
and there is still some between the "architectural" and 
"natural" schools, but "discord is the proof of vitality" 
for it is here as elsewhere, again and again, the conflict 
of elements which in spite of their apparently absolute 
antagonism are really each contained in the design of a 
harmonious landscape scheme, and which will therefore 
eventually be reconciled by further development. The 
making of a home suggests naturally at first the build- 
ing of a house and so the architect and his school or 
party take control, but "A party first truly shows itself 
to have won the victory when it breaks up into two 
parties: for so it proves that it contains in itself the 
principle with which it first had to conflict, and thus it 
had to get beyond the one-sidedness which was inci- 
dental to its earliest expression. " 

Here are several examples of how the struggle be- 
tween the architectural and the fiatural progresses and 
takes shape. Smollett gives the following account of 
a classical architectural garden Villa Pinciana at Rome ; 
although the writer is doubtless a prejudiced observer, 
he was a keen and, on the whole, veracious one and his 
travels in 1765 are of great interest and value. 

"He who loves the beauties of simple nature and 
the charm of neatness, will look for them in vain 
amidst the groves of Italy. In the garden of Villa 
Pinciana, there is a plantation of four himdred pines, 



248 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

which the ItaHans view with rapture and admiration : 
there is likewise a long walk of trees extending from 
the garden gate to the palace; and plenty of shade 
with alleys and hedges in different parts of the 
ground, but the groves are neglected; the walks are 
laid with nothing but common mould or sand, black 
and dusty; the hedges are tall, thin, and shabby; the 
trees stunted, the open ground, brown and parched, 
has scarce any appearance of verdure. The fiat, 
regular alleys of evergreens are cut into fantastic 
figures ; the flower gardens embellished with thin cy- 
phers and flourished figures in box, while the flowers 
grow in rows of earthen pots, and the ground appears 
as dusty as if it was covered with the cinders of a 
blacksmith's forge. The water, of which there is a 
great plenty, instead of being collected in large pieces, 
or conveyed in little rivulets and streams to refresh 
the thirsty soil, or managed so as to form agreeable 
cascades, is squirted from fountains in different parts 
of the garden through tubes little bigger than common 
glyster pipes. It must be owned indeed that the 
fountains have their merit in the way of sculpture 
and architecture, that here is a great number of 
statues that merit attention; but they serve only to 
encumber the ground, and destroy that effect of 
rural simplicity which our gardens are designed to 
produce. In a word, here we have a variety of walks 
and groves and fountains, a wood of four hundred 
pines, a paddock with a few meagre deer, a flower 
garden, an aviary, a grotto, and a fish pond, and in 



(Barbens 249 

spite of all these particulars it is in my opinion a 
very contemptible garden when compared to that of 
Stowe in Buckinghamshire, or even to those of Ken- 
sington and Richmond." 

And yet Smollett says that of the gardens he has seen 
in Italy that of the Villa Pinciana is the most remark- 
able and the most extensive, including a space of three 
miles in circuit, hard by the walls of Rome, containing 
a variety of situations which favour all the natural em- 
bellishments one would expect to meet in a garden, and 
exhibit a diversity of noble views of the city and adjacent 
country. 

Vernon Lee thus characterizes Italian gardens: 

"For your new gardens, your real Italian Gardens 
bring in a new element — that of perspective, archi- 
tecture, decoration, the trees used as building ma- 
terial, the lie of the land as theatre arrangements, 
the water as the most docile and multiform stage 
property. " 

Walter Savage Landor writes thus on gardens: 

"We Englishmen talk of planting a garden, the 
modem Italians and ancient Romans talk of building 
one." 

Thus you have the two schools contrasted and a con- 
tradiction established, the Latin or Southern against 
the North man, and yet out of this is emerging in all 
countries the natural parks including the garden which 



250 aLant»6cape Brcbitecture 

is co-ordinated with the different parts of the place 
and especially the house. 

In order to realize how fifty years later the Italian 
villas assumed a different aspect from that noted by 
Smollett, read what William Beckford, the creator of 
Font Hill Abbey and therefore a competent observer, 
writes : 

"I dined in peace and solitude and repaired as 
evening drew on to the thickets of Boboli. What 
a serene sky! What mellowness in the tints of the 
mountains ! A purple haze concealed the bases, while 
their summits were invested with saffron light, dis- 
covering every white cot and every copse that clothed 
their declivities. The prospect widened as I as- 
cended the terraces of the garden. After traversing 
many long dusky alleys I reached the opening on the 
brow of the hill and seating myself under the statue 
of Ceres, took a sketch of the huge mountainous 
cupola of the Duomo, the adjoining lovely tower, and 
one more massive in its neighbourhood, built not 
unprobably in the style of ancient Etruria. Beyond 
this historic group of buildings a plain stretches itself 
far and wide most richly studded with villas and 
gardens and groves of pine and olive, quite to the feet 
of the mountains. 

"Having marked the sun's going down and all the 
soothing effects cast by the declining rays on every 
object, I went through a plat of vines to a favourite 
haunt of mine: a little garden of the most fragrant 



(Battens 251 

roses with a spring under a rustic arch of grotto work 
fringed with ivy. Thousands of fish inhabit here of 
that beautiful ghttering species which comes from 
China. This golden nation were leaping after insects 
as I stood gazing upon the deep clear water, listening 
to the drops that trickle from the cove. Opposite to 
which at the end of a green alley you discover an oval 
basin and in the midst of it an antique statue full 
of that graceful languor so peculiarly Grecian. 
Whilst I was musing on the margin of the spring 
(for I returned to it after casting a look upon the 
sculpture) the moon rose above the tufted foliage of 
the terraces, which I descended by several flights 
of steps with marble balustrades crowned by vases 
of aloes. . . . 

"Then I plunged into a winding path which led me 
by a series of steep ascents to a green platform over- 
looking the whole extent of a wood, with Florence 
deep beneath, and the tops of the hills which encircle 
it jagged with pines; here and there a convent with- 
ering in the sun. The scene extends as far as the 
eye can reach. 

"Descending alley after alley, and bank after bank, 
I came to the orangery in front of the palace, dis- 
posed in a grand amphitheatre with marble niches 
relieved by dark foliage, out of which sprung cedars 
and tall aerial cypresses. This spot brought the 
scenery of an antique Roman garden so vividly into 
my mind, that, lost in a train of recollections this 
idea excited, I expected every instant to be called to 



252 Xanbscape Brcbitccture 

the table of Lucullus hard by in one of the porticoes 
and to stretch myself on his purple triclinium, but 
waiting in vain for a summons till on the approach 
of night I returned delighted with a ramble that had 
led my imagination so far into antiquity." 

Arthur Symons in his book on "Cities" has given an 
excellent description of the Italian garden at its best. 
Considering the Villa Mattei he writes : 

"Around are broken walls rising brown and jagged 
against the sky, the walls of the baths of Caracalla; 
a desolate strip of country on the edge of the city; 
and beyond, seen from the terraces lined with the 
dead bluish green of cactus, the Alban Hills. All 
the garden walks, where not even the cypresses are 
funereal nor the sunlight itself gay, breathe an ex- 
quisite melancholy, the most delicate and seductive 
breath of decay. There are wandering terraces, 
slim vistas, an entanglement of green and wayward 
life, winding in and out of brown defaced walls 
fringed with ivy, and about white and broken statues 
shining from under this green coat of leaves ; every- 
where surprising turns of ways among the trees curv- 
ing out here and there, as if instinctively, into a circle 
about a fountain where broad leaves shadow the 
heads of gods or emperors in stone. And everywhere 
there is the cool sound of water which rises in the 
fountains, and drips under water plants in a grotto; 
and everywhere as one follows the winding paths, a 
white hand stretches out from among the darkness of 



(Barrens 253 

ivy, at some turn of the way, and one seems to catch 
the escaping flutter of white drapery among the 
leaves. You will sometimes see the shy figure of an 
old Cardinal taking his walk there ; and if you follow 
him, you will come upon a broad alley of ilexes, 
lined with broken statues, broken friezes, and arched 
over by fantastically twisted branches, brown and 
interlaced, on which the blue-grey leaves hang 
delicately like lace; an alley leading to what must 
once have been a sarcophagus, covered on the side 
by which you approach it, with white carved figures. 
On the other side you find yourself in a little trellised 
circle from which, as through a window suddenly 
opened, you see the Alban Hills; there is a rustic 
wooden seat against the stone of the sarcophagus, on 
which, roughly carved, two lions meet and seem to 
shake hands ; and above is written : ' Qui San Filippo 
Neri discorreva coi suoi discepoli delli cose di Die' " 

For a modem rhapsody or ideal picture of Italian 
gardens, a poetical dream, a quotation is given from 
Mrs. (E. V. B.) Boyle: 

"A garden, the word is indeed a picture, and what 
a picture it reveals! All through the days of child- 
hood the garden is our fairy ground of sweet enchant- 
ment and innocent wonder. They are all beautiful, 
these Gardens of Poetry! and through the midst of 
them flows the broad stream of Memory, isled with 
fair lilied lawns, fringed with willowy forests of 
whispering reeds. And not less beautiful than these 



254 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

ideal shades are the gardens which Hve unchanging in 
many a painted picture within the heart. Real and 
not less ideal, is the remembrance of the gardens we 
have seen ; seen once, it may be, and never since for- 
gotten, lovely as truth, crystal clear as a poet's 
thought are the earthly Edens our eyes have beheld 
in the years that are past. How can we forget the 
gardens of queenly Genoa in the days before she was 
discrowned of Florence, of Rome and Albano and 
Tivoli ? 

"In all Italy, the land of flowers, the garden of the 
world, there are no gardens more stately, nor any 
nobler cypress trees than at Villa d'Este of Tivoli. 
In the spring by the straight smooth ways under the 
ilexes and cypresses all sunshine, the golden day is 
made rosy wherever anon the red Judas trees shower 
down their bloom. Marble stairs lead up through 
terraced heights to paved walks under Palazzo walls. 
There, the air is faint with rich fragrance of the 
orange trees. The lofty spires of ancient cypresses 
reach up above the topmost terrace ; far below in the 
garden between their dark ranks sparkle the upspring- 
ing fountains. Beyond, above the tallest cypresses 
rise brown crumbling walls of the old town, piled up 
with open loggia and arched gates and overshadowing 
roofs; and high over these, great barren hills crowned 
with ruined fortresses and shattered keeps. To the 
west rolls out the ocean of the wide Campagna, 
undulating far away where Rome is lost in the sunset. 
Dream on ! until you sigh with the wondrous sweetness 




-1 



2 ^ 



^ 



H 



(Bar&en5 255 

of Rome herself in the wild garden of the Vatican, 
where in April days ten thousand odorous cyclamen 
flowers flush with crimson all the moss beneath the 
trees. Dream on : till you see once more the swaying 
of the tall vines and bathe your steps with flowery 
grass in the green Pamphili Doria, and watch the 
mystic fountains, most like the form of an inconstant 
spirit, like a blue-robed Undine, uncertain if to 
leave her source, trembling betwixt desire and 
fear." 

Pity it is that so many abortive attempts are made 
to restore these old gardens in the modem style. 
Ribbon beds and gay parterres of showy flowers can 
be rarely made to fit an Italian garden. The real 
Italian garden is simple and dignified and depends for 
its charm on a combination of trees and architecture 
that is sui generis. Far better would it be if the modern 
owner of an old Italian garden could be induced to 
restore and retain the old conditions as far as possible, 
and to add, if addition is felt to be necessary, some more 
Italian cypresses, a magnolia or two, and other trees 
that naturally consort with the surroundings; a little 
more grass would help, and grass could certainly be 
secured by the use of water; it would be no more difficult 
than growing coleus and geranium parterres. Imita- 
tion in these old Italian gardens is to be avoided. 
You can never give the new garden the old spirit, but 
you can design the new garden in a similar spirit, as 
may be seen by referring to the illustration of Mr. Beale's 



256 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

garden (see page ). This will secure not the Italian 

garden of Italy, but the home garden of America. 

Here is another intimate and suggestive description 
of a garden which might be applied to the best gardens 
the world over: 

"Forgotten beside some rosy palace by the Adri- 
atic, its fountain overrun with maidenhair, its gold- 
fish twinkling in the marble font, and grass growing 
gaily and wildly where it will, the garden that once 
was trimmest has a delightful spirit that it could 
not have without precisely that past of artifice and 
ceremony. No prosperity except that of summer, 
no order that is not sweetly made light of while it 
is carelessly fulfilled, and all access open by way of 
the sunny air, so that no seeds are denied an anchor- 
age in this port and harbourage of the winds. A trim 
garden that is no longer trim is full of frolic. A trim 
garden that is still trim has a kind of comeliness as an 
accessory of architecture. It is at any rate a garden 
and not a landscape. 

"How has the world taken so much trouble to make 
less lovely things out of those fine materials — the 
blossoming earth and the fostering sky? Pity is it 
that the word garden should be so vulgarized by 
worldly gardens. It is an early word for all men, 
one of the earliest of words. It is an Orient word, 
fresh and perpetual from childhood and the Divine 
East."^ 

• Alice Meynell, 1900. 




w 






pa 



o 



(Barrens 257 

Fountains are a special and most important feature 
of a garden and here is a suggestion made by Henry A. 
Bright in The English Flower Garden: 

"One of the greatest ornaments in a garden is a 
fotmtain, but many fountains are curiously ineffective. 
A fountain is most effective when it leaps high in the 
air, and you can see it against a background of green 
foliage. To place a fountain among new flower beds, 
and then to substitute small fancy jets that take the 
shape of a cup, or trickle over in a basin of goldfish, 
or toy with a gilded ball, is to do all that is possible 
to degrade it. The real charm of a fountain is when 
you come upon it in some grassy glade of the ' pleas- 
aunce' when it seems as though it sought, in the 
strong rush of its waters, to vie with the tall boles 
of the forest trees that surround it." 

Such was the fountain of Leigh Hunt's story of 
Rimini which shot up beneath the shade of darksome 
pines. 

And twixt their shafts you saw the water bright 
Which through the tops glimmered with showering light. 

This is very pertinent to the subject, as it is sel- 
dom that a fountain is met which is both designed and 
located properly, particularly when used in the garden. 

But turning from the spell of these Italian gardens 

and their imquestionable beauty and charm we must 

not forget to recall the natural effects we have been 

considering, and allow ourselves to yield once more to 

17 



258 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

the call of the flowers in their homes in the nooks of the 
bushes and groves of lawns and forests, where 

Thick on the woodland floor 
Gay company shall be 
Primrose and hyacinth 
And frail anemone, 
Perennial strawberry bloom. 
Wood sorrel's pencilled veil, 
Dishevelled willowweed, 
And orchids, purple and pale.^ 

Richard Jefferies, although not a landscape gardener, 
observed and appreciated and interpreted nature in a 
wonderful way. Here is his criticism of gardening and 
free landscape : 

"Happily this park escaped and it is beautiful. 
Our English landscape wants no gardening, it cannot 
be gardened. The least interference kills it. The 
beauty of English woodland and country is its detail. 
There is nothing empty and unclothed. If the clods 
are left a little while undisturbed in the field, weeds 
spring and wild flowers bloom upon them. Is the 
hedge cut and trimmed, lo, the blue flower, the more 
and a yet fresher green buds forth on the twigs. 
Never was there a garden like the meadow; there 
is not an inch of the meadow in early summer without 
a flower. Old walls as we saw just now are not left 
without a fringe; on the top of the hardest brick wall, 
on the sapless tiles, on slates stonecrop takes hold 
and becomes a cushion of yellow bloom. Nature is 

* Robert Bridges, The Idle Flowers, 1913, p. 352. 



(5ar&ens 259 

a miniature painter and handles a delicate brush, the 
tip of which touches the tiniest spot and leaves 
something living. The park has indeed its larger 
lines, its open broad sweep and gradual slope to 
which the eye accustomed to small enclosures re- 
quires time to adjust itself. These left to themselves 
are beautiful, they are the surface of the earth which 
is always true to itself and needs no banks for artificial 
hollows. The earth is right and the tree is right, 
then either and all is wrong. The deer will not fit 
into them then. " 

Washington Irving, although not known as a horti- 
culturist or landscape gardener, nevertheless showed 
fine discrimination in the method he chose for the 
improvements of the lawns around his home near 
Tarry town. This is what he says about English 
landscape gardening in his Sketch Book: 

"The taste of the English in the cultivation of land, 
and in what is called landscape gardening is un- 
rivalled. They have studied nature intently and 
discover an exquisite sense of her beautiful forms and 
harmonious combinations. Those charms which in 
other countries she lavishes in wild solitudes, are 
here assembled around the haunts of domestic life. 
They seem to have caught her coy and furtive graces, 
and spread them, like witchery, about their rural 
abodes. Nothing can be more imposing than the 
magnificence of English park scenery. Vast lawns 



26o aLan&5cape Hrcbitecture 

extend like sheets of vivid green, with here and there 
clumps of gigantic trees, heaping up rich piles of 
foliage; the solemn pomp of groves and woodland 
glades with the deer trooping in silent herds across 
them; the hare bounding away to the covert; or 
the pheasant suddenly bursting upon the wing; the 
brook taught to wind in natural meanderings or 
expand into a glassy lake; the sequestered pool 
reflecting the quivering trees, with the yellow leaf 
sleeping upon its bosom, and the trout roaming 
fearlessly about its limpid waters. These are a few 
of the features of park scenery, but what most de- 
lights me is the creative talent with which the English 
decorate the unostentatious abodes of middle life. 
The rudest habitation, the most unpromising and 
scanty portion of land, in the hands of an English- 
man of taste becomes a little paradise. With nicely 
discriminating eye, he seizes at once upon its capa- 
bilities, and pictures in his mind the future landscape. 
The sterile spot grows into loveliness under his hand ; 
and yet the operations of art which produce the 
effect are scarcely to be perceived. The cherishing 
and training of some trees; the cautious pruning of 
others; the nice distribution of flowers and plants of 
tender and graceful foliage; the introduction of a 
green slope of velvet turf; the partial opening to a 
peep of blue distance, or a silver gleam of water; all 
these are managed with a delicate tact, a pervading, 
yet quiet assiduity, like the magic touchings with 
which a painter finishes up a favourite picture. " 



Gardens 261 

Prince Puckler's description of the garden at Windsor 
and the landscape beyond forms a good illustration of 
the proper relation of these features : 

"The garden lay before us, a perfect paradise, 
lighted by the glow of the evening sun. Along the 
whole house, now projecting, now receding, were 
verandas of various forms and clothed with creeping 
plants. These formed a border to the gayest flower 
garden covering the whole slope of the hill. Close 
upon the edge of it was a narrow green valley, between 
which the ground rose again and formed a higher 
line of hill, the side of which was clothed with huge 
beeches." 

That all is not perfect in English landscape work Prince 
Piickler indicates in the following quotation : 

"I found the garden (pleasure ground) much 
altered, but not I think for the better; for there is 
now a mixture of the regular and the irregular which 
has a very unpleasant effect. The ugly fashion now 
prevalent in England of planting the 'pleasure 
ground' with single trees or shrubs placed at a 
considerable distance, almost in rows, has been 
introduced in several parts of these grounds. This 
gives the grass plots the air of nursery grounds. 
The shrubs are trimmed round so as not to touch each 
other, the earth carefully cleared about them every 
day, and the edges of the turf cut in stiff lines, so 
that you see more of black earth than of green foliage, 
and the free beauty of nature is quite checked. " 



262 aLant)scape Hrcbitecture 

For the flower gardens of Cheswick he has nothing but 
praise. 

"On the other hand," he says, "the flower gardens 
are magnificent. The beds are so thinly planted 
that each separate plant has room to spread, except- 
ing in those beds which are entirely filled with one 
sort of flower. In them, the chief aim is the perfec- 
tion of the whole, and they are consequently by far 
the most beautiful. " 

To emphasize more fully the value of the broad, 
simple, and wholly natural idea of making a garden, an 
example is shown from Union College, Schenectady, New 
York State. There is no pretence here : plenty of trees 
and shrubs with peonies and other old-fashioned flowers 
springing abundantly at their feet; little stretches 
of turf between the flowers and the walk; then almost 
out of sight a brook running under a bridge of plain 
boards out into a small grassy hollow, lying in an 
amphitheatre under high overarching elms. The 
Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy in 
Union College, Isaac W. Jackson, commenced to make 
this garden in the early thirties of the last century, and 
his daughter, Mrs. Benedict, still cherishes it with lov- 
ing care. 

I doubt not the flowers of that garden sweet 
Rejoiced in the sound of her gentle feet; 
I doubt not they felt the spirit that came 
From her glowing fingers thro' all their frame.* 

* The Sensitive Plant, John Keats. 



ERRATUM 
Page 262, footnote — For John Keats read Percy Bysshe Shelley. 







- o 



« 



(Bar&cns 263 

Prof. Jackson had also the "most delicate artistic 
feeling and he loved beauty with so true an instinct 
that one can imagine the very flowers and shrubs which 
he affectionately tended returning his affection," — thus 
testified an old friend at the time of his death. 

The garden is a simple affair, just trees, shrubs, and 
flowers and grass, nothing rare or specially unusual, 
only a gathering of congenial plant friends, who have 
been looked after for nearly a century by people who 
loved them. The sight of this garden might easily 
recall, to those who have seen it, the one at New College, 
Oxford, of which Nathaniel Hawthorne says it has 

"lawns of the richest green and softest velvet grass, 
shadowed over by ancient trees which have lived a 
quiet life here for centuries, and have been nursed and 
tended with such care, and been so sheltered from 
rude winds, that certainly they must have been the 
happiest of all trees. Such a sweet, quiet, stately 
seclusion — so age long as this has been and I hope 
will continue to be — cannot exist anywhere else." 

Long may these lovely old gardens continue to exist 
in their academic shades and cloistered homes. 



XV 

PUBLIC PARKS 

THE problem of creating public parks while, in 
many respects, the same as that of estates or 
even of gardens, should always be carefully 
correlated with the rights and desires of the public. 
Historically, the public park is modern. A hundred 
years ago there were few public parks in the strict sense 
of the term, either in Europe or America. People were 
simply allowed to use Kings' and Princes' parks. 
Naturally, such parks had not been designed in the 
beginning for the use of the people, although they were 
of great size and magnificence like Versailles. The 
first man we can find who really seemed to comprehend 
and present intelligibly the idea of a public park in 
America was Andrew Jackson Downing, and no better 
expression has been given of appreciation of what he 
did for people's parks in both America and Europe than 
the eloquent words of William A. Stiles in the pages of 
The Garden and Forest. 

"No one," he says, "who has looked into the his- 
tory of public parks in American cities and the 
development of the public sentiment which brought 

264 



public paths 265 

them into being, will deny that the strongest impulse 
which the movement received at the outset came 
from Andrew Jackson Downing. Mr. Downing was 
bom with a strong love of nature, and as his father 
was a nurseryman he was brought up in a calling 
that increased his interest in trees and planting. 
Reared almost in sight of many of the old places on 
the Hudson which had been planned and planted by 
Parmentier and others of that older school, he learned 
while still young that a landscape could be made 
impressive by the simplest and most natural treat- 
ment. As he was to become our first authoritative 
writer on the art of landscape gardening, the whole 
country has occasion to be thankful that he was in this 
way led to adopt what was then called the English 
style of gardening, in which, to quote his own words, 
' the spirit of nature, though softened and refined by 
art, always furnished the essential charm, thus dis- 
tinguishing it from the French or Italian style, where 
one sees the effects of art slightly assisted by nature. ' 
Downing was a man of catholic views, but while he 
realized the fact that vases and balustrades and 
studied symmetry might be mingled with foliage 
enough to make a garden, yet his ideal garden-scene 
was the primeval paradise, whose pervading beauty 
was found in the unstudied simplicity of nature. 
With his natural taste refined by travel and by study, 
Downing's Treatise on the Theory and Practice of 
Landscape Gardening, which was published in 1841, 
became at once the accepted text-book of rural art in 



266 Xanbscape Brcbitecture 

this country, and this book, passing through many 
editions, and his Rural Essays and other works, are 
still classics in this branch of literature. It was his 
example and precept which inspired such men as 
Henry Winthrop Sargent, and they in turn kindled 
the enthusiasm of younger men, so that the best 
private gardens in America to-day owe what is best 
in them to his sound teachings. 

"Downing was a graceful and forcible writer as well 
as an artist of the highest intelligence, and as he had 
been already recognized as an authority a timely 
series of letters which he wrote for the Horticulturist 
on the subject of public parks in 1849 had a marked 
influence in creating and moulding popular sentiment 
in this direction. These essays, which appeared 
month after month, and were widely copied by the 
press, marshalled in a convincing way the arguments 
which were then fresh and original, although many 
of them have since become a part of our common 
knowledge and belief. He began by showing that 
public parks were needed not only to educate the 
public taste, but because everybody at some time 
felt the necessity for this contact with nature. He 
showed that this commimion was not only a delight 
to people who were as unsophisticated as children, 
but that the more thoughtful and educated a com- 
munity became the stronger grew the passion for 
rural pleasures. When it was argued that the people 
would not visit parks, even if artistic ones were con- 
structed, he pointed to the large cemeteries to prove 



public parfts 267 

how eager all classes were to avail themselves of an 
opportunity for a visit to anything resembling a park. 
Mount Auburn, Greenwood, and Laurel Hill had 
been already established for a quarter of a century, 
and that they had come to be places of resort was 
certainly not because they afforded opportunity for 
solemn meditation or for the artistic value of the 
monuments reared within them. He truly argued 
that it was because they contained bits of forest-land, 
hills and dales, copses and glades that they attracted 
throngs of visitors in cities which possessed no great 
public gardens, and that if thirty thousand people 
would visit Laurel Hill in one year many times that 
number would visit a public park in a city like Phila- 
delphia. He set his argument on the highest plane 
at the very outset, and, while recognizing the use of 
parks as helping to furnish air and sunshine, he held 
that the fostering of the love of rural beauty was 
quite as important an end, and that such a love of 
nature helped to civilize and refine national character. 
Mayor Kingsland's proposed park of a hundred and 
sixty acres he pronounced altogether too scant, and 
argued that five hundred acres between Thirty-ninth 
vStreet and the Harlem was the smallest space that 
should be reserved for the wants of the city, since no 
area less than this could furnish a rural landscape or 
offer space enough for broad reaches of parkland with 
a real feeling of the breadth and beauty of green 
fields and the perfume and freshness of nature. It 
was argued by some who assumed to represent the 



268 XanDscape Brcbitecture 

labouring classes that the park would be monopolized 
by those who ride in their carriages, and, on the other 
hand, some of the wealthy and refined people of the 
city complained that a park would certainly be 
usurped by rowdies and low people. It is refreshing 
now to read Downing's replies to such objections. 
He stoutly asserted that these social horrors were 
nothing but phantoms of the imagination; his faith 
was, as the event has proved, that rich and poor 
could breathe the same atmosphere of nature and of 
art and enjoy the same scenery without any jealousy 
or any conflict. 

"The actual work of constructing Central Park was 
not begun until six years after Downing's imtimely 
death, but it was his stirring appeals that aroused the 
city to feel its need, and provision to meet it quickly 
followed. By rare good fortune, too, designers were 
found whose artistic temperament and training were 
akin to his own, so that our first great urban park 
was planned on such broad lines as he would have 
approved. The works which followed at once in 
Brooklyn, Buffalo, Chicago, San Francisco, and other 
cities were beyond question the result of this same 
inspiration, so that his keen foresight and conscien- 
tious devotion to an idea were the most powerful of 
the agencies which united to initiate the movement 
which has given to American cities their thousands of 
acres of parkland during the past thirty-five years. 
When we think of the health and comfort, the rest 
and the refreshment, the delight to the eye and the 



public iparl^s 269 

imagination which these smiHng landscapes have 
given and will continue for ever to give to all the 
people, it is not too much to say that Downing takes 
rank among the greatest benefactors to his country 
which this century has produced." 

Largely as a result of Downing's writings in the 
Horticulturist and in his books and letters elsewhere, 
the idea gradually secured recognition that New York 
needed a large public park. In selecting a site there 
was much discussion, and at first Jones's Woods on the 
East River in the neighbourhood of 66th Street was 
chosen. It is not sure that in view of later develop- 
ments better boundary lines might not have been ob- 
tained at the time than those of the present Central 
Park; and that brings us to the importance of giving 
most careful and intelligent consideration to the choice 
of public park sites. Let us see what Mr. Olmsted says 
on this subject. No one could speak with greater weight 
of authority than he did. This is what he says in 
Public Parks and the Enlargement of Towns — in dis- 
cussing two different types of groimds for park sites : 

"We want a ground to which people may easily go 
after their day's work is done, and where they may 
stroll for an hour, seeing, hearing, and feeling nothing 
of the bustle and jar of the streets, where they shall 
in effect find the city put far away from them. We 
want the greatest possible contrast with the streets 
and the shops and rooms of the towns which will be 
consistent with convenience and the preservation of 



270 XanC)scape Srcbitecture 

good order and neatness. We want, especially, the 
greatest possible contrast with the restraining and 
confining conditions of the town, those conditions 
which compel us to walk circumspectly, watchfully, 
jealously, which compel us to look closely on others 
without sympathy. Practically, what we most want 
is a simple, broad, open space of clean greensward, 
with sufficient play of surface and sufficient number 
of trees about it to supply a variety of light and shade. 
This we want as a central feature. We want depth of 
wood enough about it not only for comfort in hot 
weather, but to completely shut out the city from our 
landscapes. 

"The word park in town nomenclature should, I 
think, be reserved for grounds of the character and 
purpose thus described. Not only as being the most 
valuable of all possible forms of public places, but 
regarded simply as a large space which will seriously 
interrupt crosstown communication wherever it 
occurs, the question of the site and bounds of the 
park requires to be determined with much more 
deliberation and art than is often secured for any 
problem of distant and extended municipal interests." 
Speaking further about promenades being "congre- 
gated human life under glorious and artificial condi- 
tions," with the natural landscape not essential to 
them, he thus speaks of the level compared with the 
rugged or picturesque type of park : "there is no more 
beautiful picture, and none can be more pleasing 
incidentally to the gregarious purpose than of beauti- 



public iparf?3 271 

ful meadows, over which clusters of level-armed 
sheltering trees cast broad shadows, and upon which 
are scattered flocks of black-faced sheep, while men, 
women, and children are seen sitting here and there 
forming groups in the shade, or moving in and out 
among the woody points and bays. 

' ' It may be inferred from what I have said that very 
rugged ground, abrupt eminences, and what is techni- 
cally called picturesque in distinction from merely 
beautiful or simply pleasing scenery, is not the most 
desirable for a town park. Decidedly not in my 
opinion. The park should as far as possible comple- 
ment the town. Openness is the one thing you can- 
not get in buildings. Picturesqueness you can get. 
Let your buildings be as picturesque as your artists 
can make them. This is the beauty of a town. 
Consequently the beauty of the park should be 
the other. It should be the beauty of the fields, the 
meadow, the prairie, of the green pastures and the 
still waters. What we want to gain is tranquillity 
and rest of mind. Mountains suggest effort. But 
besides this objection there are others of what I may 
indicate as the housekeeping class. It is impossible 
to give the public range over a large extent of ground 
of a highly picturesque character, imless under very 
exceptional circumstances, and sufficiently guarded 
against the occurrence of opportunities and tempta- 
tions to shabbiness, disorder, indecorum, and inde- 
cency that will be subversive of every good purpose 
the park should be designed to fulfil. " 



272 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

Mr. Olmsted in the Mt. Royal Park Report again 
follows out much the same line of thought : 

"The value of a city property is to depend on the 
design in which it shall be adapted to attract citizens 
to obtain needful exercise and cheerful mental occu- 
pation in the open air, with the result of better health 
and fitness in all respects for the trials and duties of 
life; with the result also necessarily of greater earn- 
ing and taxpaying capacities so that in the end the 
investment will be in this respect a commercially 
profitable one to the city. " 

Mr. Olmsted also says in the Mt. Royal Park Report 
that 

"The possession of charming natural scenery 
is a form of wealth as practical as that of wholesome 
air, pure water, or sunlight unobstructed by smoke or 
fog, as practical as that of sewers, aqueducts, and 
pavements." 

There is a more potent influence, however, than the 
mere bodily one, valuable as that is, namely the re- 
freshment and uplift of the spirit that come from the 
poetical side of the nature of most men. Here is the 
way that Mr. Olmsted explains and illustrates this 
point : 

"Let us say that for the time being the charm of 
natural scenery tends to make us poets. There is a 
sensibility to poetic inspiration in every man of us, 
and its utter suppression means a sadly morbid con- 



BMiblic IParhs 273 

dition. Poets we may not be; but a little lifted out 
of ordinary prose we may be often to our advantage. 
'To compare our small measures with larger let us 
take a recorded experience of a full-grown poet. 
Wordsworth, only greater in poetic sensibility than 
any one of us, not differently organized, not differently 
affected by medicine, came home from a painful 
experience in France after its great revolution, sick, 
broken down, unfit for business. Everything was 
going wrong with him. His sister Dorothy, of whom 
it was well said that she was the greater poet of the 
two, only that she was not a literary poet, watched 
his symptoms, saw the nature of his troubles, and 
divined their cure. She persuaded him to let her 
guide him into the midst of charming scenery, and 
subject himself for a time to its influence,' and thus, 
says Dr. Shairp, telling the story, 'began the sanative 
process which restored him to his true self and made 
that blessing to the world that he has become.' 
Commenting further on Wordsworth's case he writes, 
' continuing the study of nature (not with the science 
of the botanist, or the florist, but the poet), he at last 
came to hold the conscious conviction, what he had at 
first felt it, hardly knowing that he felt it, that nature 
had a life of her own, which streamed through and 
stimulated his life, a spirit which, in itself invisible, 
spoke through visible things to his spirit.' ' That the 
characteristics of this spirit were calmness, which 

' The Poetic Interpretation of Nature, p. 249, Dr. John Campbell 
Shairp. 
18 



274 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

stilled and refreshed man; sublimity, which raised 
him to noble thoughts; tenderness, which, while 
stirring in the largest and loftiest things, condescends 
to the lowest : is with the humblest worm and weed as 
much as in the greatest movements of the elements 
or the stars. Above all, nature he now saw to be 
the shape and image of right reason, — reason in its 
highest sense embodied and made visible in order, 
stability, in conformity to eternal law. The percep- 
tion of this satisfied his intellect and calmed and 
soothed his heart." ^ 

The sanative and pleasurable effects of "rural inci- 
dents" and open grass spaces of comparatively large 
extent are continually emphasized in the writings of 
Olmsted and Vaux whether they have been indited 
jointly or individually. Of all the different country 
experiences the charms of which they proclaim, the 
great sweeping meadows and shadowing trees on their 
borders, and now and then in the midst, are considered 
the most important — the green pastures and still 
waters, the restful embrace and life-giving glance of 
nature, where the turf and lakes or streams give new 
vigour to exhausted human beings, and prove that of all 
the phases of park landscape, the best and happiest is 
the pastoral one. 

Read what Olmsted and Vaux say on this subject of 
the pastoral landscape in the Tenth Annual Report to 
the Prospect Park Commissioners in 1873: 

' Mt. Royal Park Report. 



public pav\\3 275 

"The development of the pastoral idea in its most 
favourable aspects is possible in a large city park and 
it is the peculiar advantage of the ground under your 
control that it offers an unusually favourable oppor- 
ttmity for the purpose. A stretch of greensward a 
mile in length, surrounded by woods and unbroken by 
any carriage way, should certainly offer a field of 
ample dimensions for an illustration of the idea, and 
this we have in the Brooklyn Park. Thousands of 
people, without any sense of crowding, stroll about 
on the level or undulating sunny or shaded turf 
spaces that are to be found in this strip of pasture or 
woodland." 

The report goes on to state that they made every 
effort to improve a large portion of the ground with 
special reference to the development of this element of 
pastoral effect in pursuit of which they say they have, 
at several points, made considerable changes in the sur- 
face of the ground so as to connect a series of dissevered 
and isolated patches of comparatively level ground 
into one sweep of grass land that is extensive enough 
to make a really permanent impression on the mind. 

Again in an earlier report of 1866 to the Prospect 
Park Commissioners, Olmsted and Vaux when dis- 
cussing initial ideas which should govern in judging the 
capabiHties and limitations of a park site, with refer- 
ence to the artistic purpose, strongly emphasize the 
importance of securing as much pastoral effect as the 
conditions will allow : 



2/6 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

"The first process in the application of this art 
[landscape architecture] upon any given site is the 
formation of a judgment upon the capabilities and the 
limitations of that site with reference to the artistic 
purpose. It is obviously impossible, for instance, to 
produce in the vicinity of Brooklyn such scenery as 
will affect the mind as it is affected by the Alps or the 
Sierras on the one hand, or by the luxuriant vegeta- 
tion of a tropical swamp on the other. 

' ' Moreover there are certain kinds of scenery which 
experience shows to be most satisfactory in a town 
park, which require an extensive aggregation of their 
elements. It will be readily seen for instance that if 
all the wood, water, and turf within a certain area of 
ground were distributed in patches, strips, and pools, 
however extensive as a whole, and however varied in 
detail it might seem to those who should thoroughly 
explore all its parts, there would be no part which 
would not seem confined, there could be no large 
open single scene, and no such impression or effect 
on the mind would be produced as there would be if 
all the water were collected in a lake, all the trees in 
one grove, all the strips of grass in one broad meadow. 
Such aggregations, and consequently the degree of 
the impression intended to be produced by them, 
must be limited by consideration for two other pur- 
poses, the purpose of variety and interest, and the 
purpose to make all the scenery available to the 
satisfaction of the public by ways of communication. 
Other limitations upon the artistic purpose, again, 



public parfts 277 

are imposed by conditions of soil and exposure, by- 
rock and springs. How far each of these can be over- 
come, as by blasting, grading, draining, screening, 
manuring, and other processes, has to be studied with 
care, and the artistic purposes of the plan must be 
affected in every part and particular by the conclu- 
sions arrived at, 

"In the case before us, it is obvious that we should 
attempt nothing that is incompatible with, or in- 
appropriate to, comparatively slight variations of 
surface and a climate of considerable rigour. On the 
other hand, there are no protruding ledges of rock, 
no swamps difficult of drainage, and there is no es- 
pecial bleakness or danger to trees from violent winds 
to be apprehended. It is under similar conditions 
to these that we find in nature that class of scenery 
already referred to as the original and typical scenery 
of parks and which is termed pastoral. It consists of 
combinations of trees, standing singly or in groups, 
and casting their shadows over broad stretches of turf, 
or repeating their beauty by reflection in the calm 
surface of pools, and the predominant associations 
are in the highest degree tranquillizing and grate- 
ful. As expressed by the Hebrew poet : ' He maketh 
me to lie down in green pastures, he leadeth me beside 
the still waters.' We know of no other landscape 
effects that can be commanded within the limitations 
fixed by the conditions of this site which experience 
shows to be more desirable in a town park than these. 
Only so far then as we can without sacrificing any- 



278 Xant)scape Hrcbftecture 

thing that will contribute to the highest practicable 
ideal of pastoral scenery, should we endeavour to 
secure any degree of those other ideals, of which the 
best types are found under widely dissimilar cir- 
cumstances. 

"Although we cannot have wild moimtain defiles, 
for instance, in the park, we may have stony ravines 
shaded with trees, and made picturesque with shrubs, 
the forms and arrangement of which remind us of 
mountain scenery. We may, perhaps, even secure 
some slight approach to the mystery, variety, and 
richness of tropical scenery by an assemblage of 
certain forms of vegetation, gay with flowers, and 
intricate and mazy with vines and creepers, ferns, 
rushes, and broad-leaved plants. All we can do in 
these directions must be confessedly imperfect and 
suggestive rather than satisfying to the imagination. 
It must, therefore, be made incidental and sub- 
ordinate to our first purpose. " 

When it is fully recognized that the poetic, artistic 
quality of a public park constitutes one of its chief 
assets of value, and that the development of the features 
that lend this quality to the landscape is of supreme 
advantage, the following words of Mr. Olmsted are 
specially pertinent, giving an idea of the vast extent 
that a park development may reach. Speaking of Mt. 
Royal Park, Montreal, he writes: 

"Among properties of its class your mountain 
park possesses one marked advantage over all others, 



public parft0 279 

I mean that of noble views extending far beyond its 
borders. These are of such extent and so composed 
and their foregrounds within the property are so 
easily adapted to increase their value : their interest is 
so varied according to the direction of the outlook and 
the passing effect of clouds and atmospheric condi- 
tions, that it is not only impossible to speak of them 
in adequate terms of admiration, but trying to make 
a business estimate of them and seeking standards 
of comparison for the purpose, it will be found 
that what communities have been able to obtain by 
expenditures counting in millions of dollars is really 
too insignificant to be available for the purpose. " 

"It might be a question whether the most valuable 
influence of properties of this class (mountainous) 
is to be found in such distinct sensational features, 
even though provided by nature, as are commonly 
most consciously felt, most talked about, and written 
about, or in more unobtrusive, pervading, homeHke 
qualities of which the effects come to us less in a 
torrent-like way than as the gentle persuasive dew, 
falling so softly as to be imperceptible and yet 
delightfully invigorating in its results. Even this 
might be to some a question, but let any man ask 
himself whether the value of such views as the grand- 
est that the mountain offers is greater when they are 
made distinct spectacles, or when they are enjoyed 
as successive incidents of a sustained landscape poem 
to each of which the mind is gradually, sweetly led 



28o aLan&scape Hrcbitecture 

up, and from which it is gradually and sweetly led 
away so that they become a consistent experience; 
let him ask this with reference to the soothing and 
refreshment of a town-strained human organization, 
and he will need no argument to lead him to a soimd 
conclusion." 

In other words it may be said of parks as of painting 
and poetry that they should suggest thoughts of potent 
and distinct influence on the mind. The thoughts sug- 
gested may vary with the point of view and mental 
condition of the individual, but they should in any case 
arouse the mind and uplift and vivify the spirit. 

Olmsted and Vaux in their work in Prospect Park, 
Brooklyn, New York, and Central Park, New York, 
have produced noteworthy examples of pastoral scenery 
combined with woodland effects of the kind that not 
only inspires thoughts of a different kind but that en- 
hances by contrast the beauty of the meadows. These 
thoughts are explained in the following extracts from 
another report made at the time the parks were com- 
menced. How true and fine were these conceptions 
is shown by the supreme beauty of these parks at the 
present time some fifty years later. 

"Two classes of improvements were to be planned 
for this purpose: one directed to secure pure and 
wholesome air, to act through the lungs, the other 
to secure an antithesis of objects of vision to those 
streets and houses which shall act remedially, by im- 



public parhs 



281 



presslons on the mind and suggestions to the imagi- 
nation. 

"The latter only require our present attention and 
the first question with reference to them is: What 
class of objects are best adapted to the purpose? 

" Experience should lead most men to answer that 
they are chiefly such as give the characteristic charm 
to gardens, pleasure grounds, and rural landscapes. 
But some consideration may be required to determine 
by what mode of selection from among these, and by 
what general principle of arrangement, the highest 
practicable degree of the desired effect is to be at- 
tained. It sometimes occurs that certain species of 
trees grow naturally under conditions which favour 
such a result, in forms of extraordinary symmetry, 
their heads each having the outline of a haycock set 
upon a straight perpendicular pose. Occasionally 
several such trees may be found in nature, growing 
together. Any number of objects of that character 
would have but limited value, if any, for the purpose 
of the park, because it is a character more nearly 
compatible in a tree than any other with the con- 
venience of men when living compactly in streets and 
houses. Trees of that form might be, and in fact 
sometimes are, grown along the streets of the city, 
between rows of houses. 

"A series of rosebushes, grown in pots, trained to 
single stakes, would have still less value. Trim beds of 
flowers, such as might be set on the drawing-room 
table, or in the fore court of a city dwelling, still less. 



282 Xanbscapc Hrcbitecture 

A cluster of hornbeams and hemlocks, the trunks of 
some twisting over a crannied rock, the face of the 
rock brightened by lichens and half -veiled by tresses of 
vines growing over it from the rear, and its base lost 
in a tangle of ground pine, mosses, and ferns, would 
be of considerable value, partly because of the greater 
difficulty of reconciling the presence of such an assem- 
blage of objects with the requirements of convenience 
in the streets, but mainly because the intricate dis- 
position of lights and shadows seen in the back parts 
of it would create a degree of obscurity not absolutely 
impenetrable, but sufficient to affect the imagination 
with a sense of mystery. A broad stretch of slightly 
undulating meadow without defined edge, its turf 
lost in the haze of the shadows of scattered trees 
under the branches of which the eye could range, 
would be of even higher value, and if beyond this 
meadow occurred a depression of the surface, and the 
heads of other trees were seen again at an uncertain 
distance, the conditions would be most of all avail- 
able for the purpose in view, first because there would 
be positive assurance of a certain considerable extent 
of space free of all ordinary urban conditions, and in 
the soft, smooth, tranquil surface of turf, of immunity 
from the bustling, violent, and wearing influences 
which act upon the surface of the streets ; and secondly 
because the imagination, looking into the soft com- 
mingling lights and shadows and fading tints of colour 
of the background, would have encouragement to 
extend these purely rural conditions indefinitely. 



public iparl^s 283 

" Considering that large classes of rural objects and 
many types of natural scenery are not practicable to 
be introduced on the site of a park, — mountain, ocean, 
desert, and prairie scenery for example, — it will be 
found that the most valuable form that could have 
been prescribed is that which we have last indicated, 
and which may be distinguished from all others as 
pastoral. But the site of the park having had a very 
heterogeneous surface which was largely formed of 
solid rock, it was not desirable that the attempt 
should be made to reduce it all to the simplicity of 
pastoral scenery. What would be the central motive 
of design required of the rest? Clearly that it 
should be given such character as, while affording 
contrast and variety of scene, would, as much as 
possible, be confluent to the same end, namely, the 
constant suggestion to the imagination of an im- 
limited range of rural conditions. 

"The pleasing uncertainty and mysterious tone 
which chiaro-oscuro lends to the distance of an open 
pastoral landscape certainly cannot be paralleled in 
rugged ground where the scope of the vision is limited ; 
but a similar influence on the mind, less only in de- 
gree, is experienced as we pass near the edge of a long 
stretch of natural woods, the outer trees disposed in 
irregular clusters, the underwood mingling at inter- 
vals with their foliage. Under such circumstances, 
although the eye nowhere penetrates far, an agree- 
able suggestion is conveyed to the imagination of 
freedom, and of interest beyond the objects that 



284 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

meet the eye. While, therefore, elements of scenery 
of this class (which may, for the present purpose, be 
distinguished as picturesque, sylvan scenery) would 
both acquire and impart value from their contrast 
with the simpler elements of open pastoral landscapes ; 
their effect, by tending to withdraw the mind to an 
indefinite distance from the objects associated with 
the streets and walls of a city, would be of the same 
character. 

"The question of adjusting and localizing these two 
classes of landscape elements to the various elements 
of the topography of the park next occurs, the study 
of which must begin with the consideration that the 
park is surrounded by an artificial wall twice as high 
as the great wall of China composed of urban build- 
ings. Wherever this should appear across a meadow 
view the imagination would be checked abruptly at 
short range. Natural objects were thus required to 
be interposed, which, while excluding the buildings 
as much as possible from view, would leave an un- 
certainty as to the occupation of the space beyond, 
and establish a horizon line composed as much as 
possible of verdure. No one looking into a closely 
grown wood can be certain that at a short distance 
back there are not glades or streams, or that a more 
open disposition of trees does not prevail. 

"A range of high woods, or of trees so disposed as to 
produce an effect when seen from a short distance 
looking outwardly from the central parts of the park, 
of a natural woodside, must be regarded more nearly 



public paries 285 

indispensable to the purpose in view — that of re- 
lieving the visitor from the city — than any other 
available feature. The site of the park being natur- 
ally very broken and largely composed of masses of 
rock, the extent to which the meadow-like surface of 
pastoral scenery could be introduced in the plan was 
limited. It was then, first of all, required that such 
parts of the site as were available and necessary to 
the purpose should be assigned to the occupation of 
elements which would compose a woodside, screening 
incongruous objects without the park as much as 
possible from the view of observers within it. 

"Secondly, of the remaining ground it was required 
to assign as much as was available to the occupation 
of elements which would compose tranquil, open, pas- 
toral scenes. 

"Thirdly, it was required to leave all of the yet 
remaining ground to elements which would tend to 
form passages of scenery contrasting in depth of 
obscurity and picturesque character of detail with 
the softness and simplicity of the open landscapes. 



"i 



The artistic necessity in park landscape gardening 
of having types of effect persist in some kind of size and 
form and colour everywhere; the one general effect 
among many, the grass space, the lake or pool surface, 
trees, shrubs, and flowers around, even a colony of 
flowers, a flower bed, if you will, all repeating in a hund- 

• Second Annual Report to the New York Park Department, 
Olmsted & Co. 



286 Xanbscape Brcbttecture 

red ways whatever makes pastoral and picturesque 
changes true to the nature of the place: this is well 
explained in the following words: 

"It has been stated that this park [Central Park] 
differs from most English parks in substituting a 
multiplicity of small picturesque scenes for broad 
expanses of turf but it ought not to be forgotten that 
the park has the same pastoral charm of simple, 
natural scenery which is found in landscapes where 
the features are broader. When the site was selected 
not the slightest attention was given to its landscape 
possibilities, and the fact seemed only to be considered 
that it was in the centre of the island and that the 
ground was so broken and intractable that it would 
cost as much to construct streets throughout it on 
the established rectangular system as it would to 
re-form it into a pleasure ground. South of the res- 
ervoir the surface was so rugged and heterogeneous, 
traversed as it was diagonally by ridges of outcrop- 
ping gneiss, with marshy hollows between them, that 
no opportunity for making a spacious meadow-like 
effect was offered. The upper half of the park could 
be treated in a somewhat broader way, as its natural 
features were larger, its slopes had a grander sweep, 
and its horizon lines were nobler. The only landscape 
effects which could be produced under these restric- 
tions were such as could be controlled between the 
boundaries of a long narrow, rocky territory with no 
prominent points commanding extensive views. No 



public iparfts 287 

doubt, if the same intelligent study could have been 
applied to the selection of a site which was given later 
to devising contrivances to remedy its defects, the 
park could have been made still more satisfying. 
Nevertheless it was the primary effort of the design- 
ers to make as large open spaces as were practicable. 
Two considerable stretches of greensward were pro- 
cured in the lower part at great expense by blast- 
ing out protruding rock and fillinp; the space with 
earth and mould. As it is the green contains about 
sixteen acres and the ball ground but ten acres, al- 
though they both seem much larger. The rolling 
surface of the green and its obscure borders where the 
limits of the grass are lost in the shady recesses among 
the trees through which glimpses of grassy slopes are 
seen at intervals beyond, all suggest indefinite dis- 
tances to the imagination. All the roads are ar- 
ranged so as to bring these spaces into view — several 
times from different points with varying effect. Of 
course, there is a greater sense of enlargement and 
freedom experienced in the north meadows, but even 
here only nineteen acres could possibly be secured. 
These small picturesque scenes, therefore, were not 
used because the designers considered them prefer- 
able to large expanses and simple groves, but because 
this was the only possible method of treating the 
ground. They were so used, however, as to produce 
the same effect upon the imagination as broad pas- 
toral scenes. The small spaces are distributed 
through the park in such a way that they carry for- 



288 XauDscape Hrcbitecture 

ward and emphasize the softness and simplicity of the 
meadow scenery. Even the Ramble, which is char- 
acterized by intricacy and picturesqueness and where 
there are places which have all the mysterious charm 
of a natural wild wood, there are many little grassy 
openings bordered with trees which repeat the 
meadows in a small way and carry the idea of pastoral 
quiet throughout the work. Indeed, the great value 
of Central Park is that it is a work with unity of 
design and that it is consistent throughout, and it 
still remains the best, as it was the first example of a 
pleasure ground designed to have the restful charm 
of natural scenery and yet completely enclosed by a 
compactly built city. , . . 

" 'Truly,' says an Enghsh writer, 'the transforma- 
tion of a tract of swamp and rock into one of the most 
beautiful parks in the world is a striking monument 
of American skill and perseverance.' It is more than 
that, it is a work of genius, and the more it is studied, 
the more we wonder at the prophetic power of the 
designers in providing so far in advance for the wants 
of a city, which only existed at the time in imagina- 
tion. Whenever any radical change in this design 
is proposed, the project should always be examined 
with reference to its effect on the fundamental charac- 
ter of the work as a whole. It is just as truly a 
unit in conception as if it consisted of one broad 
meadow."^ 

' Garden and Forest, William A. Stiles, New York Park Commis- 
sioner. 



public pav]\3 289 

There are other elements yet to be considered; but 
those already classified and assigned to various quarters 
of the site, contribute directly to the general and char- 
acteristic purpose of the park and are therefore to be 
distinguished as its essential elements. 

After studying the essential artistic elements, es- 
pecially the poetic elements that mark and emphasize 
the difference between a playground, a farm, a field, 
and a park, we find these authors (Olmsted and Vaux) 
writing in illuminating phrase and warning against the 
employment in parks of features which, though possess- 
ing a value of their own, do not contribute to, much less 
enhance, their characteristic beauty: 

"Accessory elements by which walking, riding, 
driving, resting, eating, and drinking are facilitated, 
were also to be required in the design of the park, 
in so far as they would be instruments necessary to 
be used to obtain the benefit of its essential elements. 

"But if people were allowed to straggle at will any- 
where upon the ground and if provision were made 
for their doing so comfortably and with cleanliness, 
all the ground would need to be specially prepared 
for the purpose ; there would be no turf and no trees 
upon it, and it would afford no relief from the city. 
It will thus be seen that these accessory elements of 
the park are admissible only where and so far as the 
advantages they offer make its essential elements 
available, and compensate for any curtailment 
their introduction may involve in these essential 

19 



290 Xant)scape Hrcbltecture 

elements. They are desirable so far as they aid the 
essential elements in inviting the observer to rest or 
move forward in one way or another, as shall most 
conduce to his recreation. They are undesirable in so 
far as they tend to weaken, divide, blot, or make 
patchwork of the essential features of the natural 
landscape. 

"The first consideration, then, in a truly critical 
study of the size, form, and place in the park of any 
required construction for the accommodation of vis- 
itors was originally, and always should be, that the 
degree of display which may be allowed in it should 
correspond, as nearly as other considerations will 
permit, with the importance of the need it is designed 
to meet : this being measured not only by its average 
value to each user, but with regard also to the number 
of those who will have occasion to use it. " 

Bridges in landscape gardening are in reality what 
Olmsted and Vaux term an accessory, and not an essen- 
tial artistic necessity of the landscape design. As a 
feature of the landscape, their artistic necessity is not 
felt when compared with the elements of trees, shrubs, 
water and grass spaces; — but the accessory of first im- 
portance is the passageways that lead the observer to 
the different views of the landscape picture, and the 
bridge forms part of these passageways. There is no 
question, however, that more than most other accesso- 
ries in the landscape, the bridge may be so used as to 
give a charm and variety which may be kept in harmony 



public iparhs 291 

with the general scheme. The general features of its 
construction should be therefore blended largely with 
foHage, retaining the pervading idea of natural eflect. 
But the fact that it is a bridge for people to use in pass- 
ing that way, makes it important that it shall be safe 
and comfortable. For the same reason the bridge struc- 
ture should be quite visible. Hence its location, form, 
and material of construction become important. It 
may consist of stepping-stones, of one solid arch, or of a 
series of arches. There may be many forms, but they 
should be as simple as possible and as unobtrusive: 
lines, proportions, all seemly and graceful, yet with 
as little pretension to architectural display as may be. 
It is naturally chiefly a question of choosing material 
fitted to special conditions, and usually, almost in- 
variably, stone of rustic' character is to be preferred for 
bridges in the midst of a landscape, but it might readily 
be that some spot would suggest the use of wood or even 
iron. Central Park has in its Bow Bridge a Hght iron 
structure of such grace that its loss would be irreparable 
(see illustration). Artificial stone or cement in any 
form or mixture should be barred. In the midst of 
trees and foHage its unnatural appearance is specially 
objectionable. 

The entrance and exit of a bridge should be clothed 
and screened with foliage and above the shrubs should 
tower some large trees to emphasize the effect of coming 
on to the structure. Sometimes Lombardy poplars in 
clusters are effective in such places. The bridge should 
emerge from the foliage with a certain distinction and 



292 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

yet not obtrusively. The exact point of the course of 
the stream or arm of lake chosen for the location of the 
bridge should be carefully selected and the height and 
conspicuousness of the bridge adjusted to the landscape. 
Thomas Whately has written perhaps better than any 
one else on these and other points in relation to bridges : 

"The form of a lake, on the contrary, intimates 
that all the several shores are, by making a certain 
circuit, accessible. Bridges therefore are inconsistent 
with the nature of a lake, but characteristic of a river: 
they are on that account used to disguise a termina- 
tion; but the deception has been so often practised, 
that it no longer deceives; and a bolder aim at the 
same effect will now be more successful. If the end 
can be turned just out of sight, a bridge at some dis- 
tance raises a belief, while the water beyond it re- 
moves every doubt of the continuation of the river, 
and the supposition immediately occurs, that if a dis- 
guise had been intended the bridge would have been 
placed farther back, and the disregard thus shown to 
one deception gains credence for the other. 

"To give bridges their full effect, the connexion 
between them and the river must be attended to: 
from the want of it, the single wooden arch, now 
much in fashion, seems to us generally misplaced. 
Elevated without occasion so much above, it is totally 
detached from the river ; it is often seen straddling in 
the air, without a glimpse of the water to account for 
it; and the ostentation of it as an ornamental object 




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public parks 293 

diverts all the train of ideas which its use as a com- 
munication might suggest. The vastness of Walton 
Bridge cannot without affectation be mimicked in a 
garden, where the magnificent idea of including the 
Thames imder one arch is wanting, and where the 
structure itself, reduced to a narrow scale, retains no 
pretension to greatness. Unless the situation makes 
such a height necessary; or the point of view be 
greatly above it, or wood or rising ground, instead 
of sky behind it, fill up the vacancy of the arch, it 
seems an effort without a cause, forced and prepos- 
terous. 

"A gentle rise and easy sweep more closely preserve 
the relation. A certain degree of union should also 
exist between the banks and the bridge that it may 
seem to rise out of the banks, and not barely to be im- 
posed upon them. It ought generally to swell much 
above their level ; the parapet wall should be brought 
down near to the ground, or end against some swell, 
and the size and the uniformity of the abutments 
should be broken by hillocks or thickets about them : 
— every expedient should be used to mark the connex- 
ion of the bridge both with the ground from which it 
starts, and the water which it crosses. " ^ 

The two views of the Boulder or Huddlestone Bridge 
should perhaps have been included in the chapter on 
Rocks, but they are so characteristic of the rugged wild 
scenery of the part of Central Park where they have 

' Thomas Whately, Observations on Modern Gardening. 



294 Xant)scape Hrcbitecture 

been employed that they have been used as illustrations 
of a park feature. 

With the exception of the rough archaic arch that 
forms the bridge, the whole picture of its south side 
might be that of a cataclysm of nature. If the illus- 
trations are carefully examined it will be seen that before 
bringing these stones together there has been careful 
study given to their selection and the way they would 
naturally come together under the impelling force of the 
elements brought to bear on them year after year. 

But there are other features pertaining to a park or 
an estate that are more evidently accessories and there- 
fore need intelligent adjustment, or, in some cases, for 
various reasons, abandonment. 

The names of these features are numerous; a few of 
them are statues, busts, memorials of all kinds including 
tablets let into the rock, museums, libraries, bandstands 
of a permanent character, stadiums, restaurants (no 
strong liquors should be sold in a park on account of 
the women and children if for no other reason), merry- 
go-rounds, playgrounds, games of all kinds. 

These things mar the harmony and injure the turf 
and produce a disturbance of the mind that lessens the 
pastoral and other sylvan charms of the park. It should 
be remembered also that important as it is that children 
should have all reasonable opportimity to amuse them- 
selves in the park, yet as there are adults as well as 
young people who have the right to enjoy the scenery, 
their "due and privilege" should not be neglected. 
The remedy for the temptation to overcrowd the park 




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public parks 295 

with games for children and adults is the construction 
elsewhere of children's playgrounds and athletic fields 
on special reservations of their own. This has been 
done in Brooklyn, New York, with great success, en- 
tirely outside of the boundaries of Prospect Park. 

Every one of the objects named, with many things of 
a similar type, should be barred from the park. If it 
were found absolutely necessary to have any such 
structures in the park, they might better be placed 
beneath the surface of the ground in a subterranean 
hall. 

It may be conceded that there is another class of 
artificial structures that should find a place in the park, 
and that is architecture on the borders. A wall or fence 
or some boundary treatment should surround every 
park. A park boundary barrier, however, should have a 
simple, unobtrusive character and be made as low as 
safety will permit, but to preserve this character no 
special ornaments, such as statues or urns, should be 
inserted in the wall : a plain tablet with names carved on 
it might appear just at or about the entrance. On the 
plazas opposite the park entrances, fountains, statues, 
and other architectural and sculptural structures may 
properly find a place if they are not allowed to dominate 
the neighbouring park scenery. Gates and architectural 
adornment of the actual park entrances are not likely 
to be altogether satisfactory, and, as a matter of fact, 
have hardly ever been designed successfully. Unless 
the architecture is extremely modest, it will insist on 
imposing too dominant and alien an influence for the 



296 Xan^scape Hrcbitecturc 

poetic or pastoral character which should be evident in 
the park, even from outside of the entrance. 

The question of museums in the park is discussed by 
Park Commissioner W. A. Stiles, one of the most en- 
lightened officials who has ever written on the subject : 

"All this (employment of museums) is very attrac- 
tive, and not impracticable. But when Mr. H 



declares that a public park does not fulfil its highest 
fiinction until it develops into a vast and multi- 
tudinous museum for popular instruction he plainly 
ignores the specific purpose for which pleasure 
grounds like Central Park have been created. Indeed 

one may read Mr. H 's article attentively and fail 

to discover whether he has ever cared to inform hirri- 
self precisely what that purpose is. The fact is that 
in popular language there is no well-defined group of 
ideas suggested by the word park, and it is applied to 
areas of ground which are used for the most varied 
and incongruous purposes. To one man it means a 
baseball field, to another a military parade ground, to 
a third a place where race horses are used to facilitate 
gambling. Indeed the danger of the assaults on the 
integrity of city parks is constant because of the lack 
of clear popular conception of their true functions, 
and they never will be safe from attacks until their 
primary purpose is universally understood, and until 
this purpose is admitted to be of sufficient importance 
to justify their existence and maintenance."^ 

' Garden and Forest, vol. ii., May 2, 1891. 



ipublic ipacks 297 

Again the same author says: 

" Scenery of a purely pastoral character is no doubt 
the most valuable element of a park within the limits 
of a great city like New York, for no stronger contrast 
to the constrained and artificial conditions of urban 
life can be imagined than meadow-like stretches of 
greensward which are not fenced in by rigid bounda- 
ries but fade away in obscure and shadowy distance. 
Broad open landscapes with spacious skies, and the 
sense of enlargement and freedom which they bring, 
offer the most pleasing contrasts to the hard confine- 
ment of city streets with their skyline of roofs and 
chimneys; the tranquillizing influence of soft, smooth, 
grassy surfaces is an unfailing refreshment from the 
wear and weariness, the strain and pressure of city 
life, with its strenuous effort and consuming ambition. 
The designers of Central Park plainly endeavoured 
to embody as much as possible within their limita- 
tions, and in a dignified way without resorting to 
affectations and deceptions, the quiet, pastoral idea. 
Within the narrow area of the park the broadest scope 
of open meadow that could be secured was consider- 
ably less than thirty acres. But the bordering woods 
were so depressed as to leave the boimdaries uncer- 
tain and mysterious, and the turf was made to flow 
into sunny alcoves and about promontories of foliage 
until it was lost in hazy shadows which suggested in- 
definite extent of the same restful scenery. The view 
shown [see p. 197] is taken from a point overlooking the 



298 XauDscape Hrcbitecture 

north meadow near looth Street on the west side. 
The glimpse of distant turf seen under the branches of 
the group of trees in the centre of the opening in the 
wood border on the left, the skyline of trees in the dis- 
tance, all suggest to the imagination a limitless extent 
of similar rural conditions. No object meets the eye 
of the observer to indicate that there is anything be- 
yond but green pastures and tree-fiecked meadows. " ^ 

This is a most beautiful and true description of a 
public park as it should be and continue to be, and no 
museum or similar alien structure should be allowed a 
place within its bounds. 

In connexion with the subject of parks, the impor- 
tance of civic planning naturally suggests itself. A park 
is, in reality, only a part of a civic scheme which should 
have a wide extension and give attention to all of the 
spiritual, mental, and physical needs of a community 
in the largest sense of the term. A city is like a body 
and its members. Each part has a definite relation to 
the others and a distinct function of its own to perform. 
In its truest sense, it is an organism that necessitates a 
constant interplay of functions of various kinds. The 
park exercises one of these functions, while the streets, 
squares, circles, and other features possessing use or 
beauty are other members that contribute to the enjoy- 
ment and well-being of the community. This adjust- 
ment of the existing conditions to the various uses of the 
community should be so managed as to recognize the 

' Garden and Forest, vol. i., May 9, 1888. 



public paries 299 

valuable legacy of the past, to recognize the needs of 
the present and the immediate future and something of 
the potentiaHty of a more distant time and circumstance. 
Perhaps the retention of the valuable features is the 
most important because it has a definite and deter- 
minable value about which there can be no mistake. 
Let us not, therefore, lose our hold on the past when we 
study our civic designs. Moreover, while modifications 
will naturally suggest themselves in view of changed 
conditions and requirements, there will still be the 
possibility of retaining much of the old features in 
conjunction with the new, combined together in one 
unified whole. The difficulty with many city planning 
designs is that they are not sufficiently conservative 
of the old and valuable conditions already existing and 
show often indications of a willingness to let go too 
readily old-time features. There are, likewise, various 
dominant ideas of even contradictory characteristics 
which should pervade the whole city plan and co-oper- 
ate together to make an ideal extension of the lives of 
individuals. It should be remembered that "men do 
not form a community . . . merely in so far as the men 
co-operate. They form a community . . . when they 
not only co-operate, but accompany this co-operation 
with the ideal extension of the lives of individuals where- 
by each co-operating member says, ' This activity which 
we perform together, this work of ours, its past, its 
future, its sequence, its order, its sense, — all these enter 
into my life, and are the life of my own self writ large.' " ^ 

'Josiah Royce. 



300 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

Dr. Harald. Hoffding thus expresses the idea of how 
feeling acts in passing from the old to the new, which 
always, consciously or unconsciously, contains more or 
less of the old: "The stream of feeling," he says, "is in 
general reluctant to quit the bed that it has worked 
for itself. It has accommodated itself to the traditional 
ideas, and a time of unrest and discord must be passed 
through before it can reaccommodate itself to the new 
ideas. During such a time of transition, the two streams 
of feeling, the one tending to flow on in the old bed, 
the other to expand, have a hard struggle with one 
another. Or, to express it more correctly, the tendency 
of the old feeling to spread itself over and colour the 
whole of consciousness struggles against the same 
tendency on the part of the new feeling, for the feelings 
that are bound up with tradition have also an expansive 
tendency and will always try, if they cannot altogether 
crowd out the new feeling, at any rate to colour and 
transform it ; in extreme cases, where they can maintain 
themselves in no other way, the old ideas become trans- 
formed in correspondence with the new." 

These remarks, although they are intended to apply 
specially to the feelings of an individual, have an even 
greater force when predicated of a community. For 
instance, the park idea of pastoral restfulness, an old 
one, should be extended and transformed in a new way 
from the park to the sidewalk and street by means of 
intervals of grass space between trees and shrubs all 
skilfully associated together. This park idea should be 
further extended to the lawns and dooryards of citizens, 



public iparfts 301 

and a certain amount of formality and regard for con- 
venience should, on the other hand, reach over from 
the street designs to that of the park as well as the lawn 
and dooryard. It should not be confusing to speak of a 
whole city as an actual park, or of a great park as, in a 
perfectly legitimate sense, the abode of a community, 
that is a city developed on comprehensive lines. The 
city planner, therefore, should make his standpoint of 
design that of the community and thus evolve a com- 
prehensive plan that allows due regard to the limitations 
of the place and of the residents. On the other hand, 
the formality, as understood in common parlance, is 
required for its distinctly human quality to take its 
proper place in the park and on the street and in the 
city lawn or yard. The park idea should pervade the 
city everywhere throughout its streets, and particularly 
around its residences and public buildings. In other 
words, if I may be allowed to repeat the same idea in 
other words, a city should be looked upon, if ideally 
laid out, as a great public park in which a community 
is to live and move and have its being. 

The city planner, therefore, should make his stand- 
point of design that of the community and thus evolve 
for his city a unified artistic creation realizing the ideal 
of both the architect and landscape architect. In order 
to illustrate the application of these ideas I will venture 
to refer to a plan for redesigning an important part of 
the city of Washington made in 1900 for the Chief 
Engineer of the United States and submitted to the 
Speaker of the House of Representatives by the Secre- 



302 3LaiiC>scape arcbitecture 

tary of War. ' The region under consideration in this 
plan as designated by the Act of Congress includes 
that section of the District of Columbia situated 
between B Street S. W., the Capitol, Pennsylvania and 
Delaware Avenues, and requires a connexion with the 
Zoological Park. It should be specially noticed in this 
plan that the original design of Major L'Enfant made 
one hundred years ago has been treated with due respect. 
Pennsylvania Avenue and all the boundary streets have 
been retained in exact accordance with the original 
design. Like L'Enf ant's design also the main treat- 
ment of drives and lawns is kept on the axis of the 
Capitol and Washington Monument. Moreover, by 
setting apart the Botanical Garden and the grounds of 
the Smithsonian Institute and the Agricultural De- 
partment and the space around the White House, an 
actual park in the heart of Washington has been already 
secured. The design under consideration seeks as far as 
possible to retain and improve all this highly developed 
and desirable park effect and also seeks to enlarge and 
complete it by purchasing the necessary land to extend 
it to Pennsylvania Avenue and Delaware Avenue. 
Very few cities in the world have such a park develop- 
ment as already exists in the Washington of the present 
day, which is much of it in a peculiar degree really the 
Washington of the past and of L'Enfant's creation. 
The essential and underlying idea of the plan in question 
is that in place of a park crisscrossed by traffic streets 

' The preparation of this plan was awarded to Samuel Parsons in 1900 
by the Chief Engineer of the United States. 




The Plan of Park Treatment of the Territory Situated between the Capitol Groun( 



From 







nington Monument and Pennsylvania and Delaware Avenues, Washington, D. C. 

I'tn. 



public iparl^s 303 

and obstructed here and there by an inferior class of 
houses, the plan proposes to retain the half dozen 
important public buildings existing and lay out the 
grounds around them, or in other words park them. 
Broad lawns are arranged for pastoral effects and trees 
and shrubs are clustered along the paths and drives and 
on the borders of the lawns, and a series of longitudinal 
elliptical grass spaces leads the eye of any one stand- 
ing in front of the Capitol down over a vista of green 
lawns to the Washington Monument. 

By the employment of bridges over the transverse 
streets the entire territory of park space is brought into 
one unified whole, a park unit and yet correlated in the 
most intimate way with the neighbouring city. It is 
intended that the bridges shall be so screened and 
planted in the manner of those of Central Park, New 
York, that the sense of the close neighbourhood of the 
city shall not be appreciably felt as one wanders through 
the park. It is also proposed that in future all public 
buildings for the United States or the District of Colum- 
bia that may be erected here shall be kept strictly out 
of the main area of the park, and disposed along the bor- 
ders of Pennsylvania and Delaware Avenues. It is not 
claimed that this arrangement of a great park in the 
heart of Washington City is entirely ideal, but simply 
that it does recognize and treat with due respect the 
original plan of L' Enfant, taking in consideration the 
needs and tastes of the present and future generations. 
Moreover, it may be said also that the admirable system 
of tree planting adopted long years ago on the streets of 



304 Xant)9cape Brcbitecture 

Washington has given the city the appearance of a 
somewhat formal park, and this feature with the con- 
siderable lawns and dooryards of the citizens adorned 
with grass and shrubs and flowers helps to extend the 
park idea. 

The main and most important principle, therefore, of 
city planning, to repeat in another form what has been 
already discussed, is for both architect and landscape 
architect to remember that, in the case of such work, 
they are designing for a community of various members 
having various needs and desires, and that they should 
always consider well traditions and peculiar inherited 
conditions. They should not design for individuals, or 
even groups of individuals, but for the whole community 
understood in the broadest and best sense of the term. 



XVI 

CHOICE TREES AND SHRUBS 

ALTHOUGH it may seem to be a truism the 
reiteration of which is hardly necessary, it is 
well to keep in mind from the very start in 
this chapter that the problem of the proper use of plants 
varies with every spot where work is undertaken, and 
that the hardiness of trees and shrubs and fertility of 
soils will always be found relative to varying conditions. 

Having emphasized these limitations, it has been 
deemed a good idea to bring together some notes on 
the peculiarities of certain choice trees and shrubs and 
flowers and suggestions as to their treatment. In 
doing this, ideas and facts may be set forth which 
will be familiar to many and yet it is believed they may 
possess a decided value for others. 

It is important, first of all, to warn lawn planters not 
to make a museum of their lawns. Many trees and 
shrubs, and particularly perennials, or wild flowers, 
are interesting botanically and horticulturally, and 
yet do not count for much in the landscape picture, 
and are not specially controlling in the general effect. 
They, of course, may be used in their proper place duly 
'° 305 



3o6 Xan5scape Hrcbitccture 

related to their more important neighbours, but to have 
too many of them, or to locate them improperly, works 
often great injury to the picture and mars, in various 
ways, its harmony. The following remarks, therefore, 
will bear chiefly on this fitness of a plant for a landscape 
picture both in appearance and general habit. 

To follow the seasons and make each one interesting 
as it comes forward in turn will always have much 
value for many people. One of the earliest things to 
come in leaf and flower is the willow, and as a lawn 
plant it has many good qualities. It will live and 
thrive in almost any soil, especially a wet one. The 
fresh-looking flowers it bears in early spring are always 
a kind of revelation or forestate of good things to come. 
Not all willows are of equal value in lawn planting 
although there are numerous species and varieties. 
The difficulty with the willows is that they are liable 
to become naked and bare of foliage as they grow older, 
and like most soft wooded trees their beauty is apt to be 
short lived. One of the best willows for its retention 
of beauty, bushiness, and general health is the common 
white willow, Salix alba. It is superior for this reason 
to the red-stemmed willow and the yellow, Salix vitellina 
aurea, and especially the weeping willow, Salix baby- 
lonica. The latter grows often into a fine tree with 
great spreading branches, but it is brittle and suffers 
much from ice storms, which, helped by windstorms, 
generally succeed eventually in destroying it. There 
seems to be little reason for using this willow along 
watersides. Its drooping habit is not specially attrac- 



Cboice Urees auD Sbrubs 307 

tive, being stringy and wanting in fulness. It is 
generally considered a sad-looking tree, suitable for 
graveyards and pools of water, why it would be hard 
to explain. The pussy willow {Salix caprea) is a fine 
bushy kind. It is important to remember that the 
members of the willow family need pruning strongly in 
order to keep them in good shape. 

Other rapid-growing trees for the spring lawn are 
poplars, the oriental plane tree, alders, birches, and the 
forsythias, jortuni and viridissima. The latter kinds 
are excellent shrubs, blooming early with abundant 
yellow flowers and keeping a rich, compact, and in the 
case of Forsythia viridissima a graceful foliage through- 
out the summer and autumn. The viridissima looks 
well on the borders of shrub groups, because its branches 
droop close to the ground. There is another shrub, 
Berberis thunbergi, that is compact, of vigorous growth, 
and fine throughout the season with its glossy foliage, 
summer flowers, and autumn colour. It is one of the 
best shrubs for the lawn. Its relative, the common 
barberry, is also an excellent shrub, fine in masses with 
its bright flowers and fruit. The Spircsa thunbergi is 
perhaps the prettiest of spir^as with its light-coloured 
graceful foliage, early white flowers in great masses, 
and its lovely autumn colour. 

The horse-chestnut is fine in May with its fresh 
green foliage and large white or red trusses of bloom, 
but later on in July it is apt to lose its leaves and look 
forlorn for the rest of the season. Hawthorns belong 
to spring, and the most celebrated and beautiful in 



3o8 XanC>scape Hrcbitccture 

flower is the English variety {Cratcegiis oxycanlhd) with 
its white or scarlet flowers, but this species is Uable 
to blight in America and does not equal in beauty of 
foliage and size and brilliancy of fruit the numerous 
American species among which are the well-known 
cockspur {Cms galli) and coccinea kinds. These 
thorns are gems of beauty and of varied individuality ; 
no soil or exposure seems too adverse for them. San 
Jose scale is an insect pest that troubles the American 
hawthorns as well as the English, but a little care 
will readily conquer it. The same may be said of the 
Japan quince and the flowering apple and peach and 
plum and almond. They are all most lovely in spring 
but are all Hable to San Jose scale. 

Magnolias make one of the choicest denizens of the 
lawn but are hard to transplant. One of the sights of 
Central Park, New York, is a large tree, a Chinese 
magnolia {M. conspicua), a perfect cloud of white 
bloom, with as yet no leaves, in the midst of a snow- 
storm in April. 

But after spring come the summer effects, which 
really commence in May and linger on through the first 
and second weeks of June and later. This is the season 
of roses and with a little care they are beautiful, but 
with pruning at frequent intervals and also cultivating 
with plenty of manure and mulch, making a light mellow 
soil containing plenty of humus, they are unsurpassed 
for beauty. There are the climbing Wichuriana hybrids 
on the wall in mid- June and the regular June roses 
blooming freely once only such as the General Jacque- 



Cboice Ztccs ant> Sbrubs 309 

minot and similar kinds, and last and most important 
the ever-blooming roses, the hybrid teas, which flower 
repeatedly in the utmost profusion all summer until 
frost. A bed of these hybrid tea roses properly 
managed is a wonderful sight. 

There is another summer rose blooming in late June 
and July, the prairie rose (R. setigera), already men- 
tioned, that is very lovely in flower with small pink and 
white petals hanging in clusters. It is comparatively 
free from disease and grows to great size under the most 
impropitious circumstances. The Japan rose {R. ru- 
gosa) is a shrub which has rich green foliage and large 
red and white flowers, and thrives on the seashore, and 
in autumn has large red fruit like small apples. It needs 
to be sharply pruned every year to keep it from becom- 
ing ragged and devoid of leaves. 

If a general consensus of opinion were obtained among 
those who love and know something about flowers, I 
think the rhododendrons would, after roses, be declared 
most popular. Their rich dark evergreen foliage with 
red and purple and white trusses of flowers cannot be 
surpassed for massive and impressive beauty. The 
rhododendron is king of flowers as the rose is queen. 
Nevertheless they have their drawbacks, especially in 
this climate. Sometimes the spring hot suns and cold 
nights brown and even destroy the leaves. Even 
then the plant is seldom killed, only rendered unsightly 
for a time, and retarded in its growth. Usually it will 
be found in such cases that it has been weakened by 
disease or drought. A few of the best kinds that have 



310 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

proved hardy after many years of trial are as follows: 
Abraham Lincoln, rosy crimson, Album elegans, light 
blush fading white, Boule de Neige, white, dwarf, and 
very hsiv6.y,Atrosanguineum, blood red, Charles Dickens, 
dark scarlet, Charles S. Sargent, rich crimson, Charles 
Bagley, cherry red, Everestianum, rosy lilac, best and 
hardiest habit, General Grant, rosy scarlet, Kettledrum, 
rich purplish or crimson, bushy, excellent form, and 
very hardy. Lady Armstrong, pale rose, Lee's dark 
purple, Mrs. Milner, rich crimson. Old Port, rich plum 
colour, Purpureum elegans, Parsons grandiflorum, and 
Sefton, dark maroon. There are, however, others 
besides these kinds that are desirable for hardiness and 
beauty. 

Of the hybrid tea, the ever-blooming roses, the 
following varieties ought to be mentioned as reliable 
and excellent, namely: Caroline Testout, bright satiny 
rose, Etoile de France, velvety crimson, large double. 
General MacArthur, large bright crimson, Gruss an 
Teplitz, bright rich scarlet, free bloomer, La France, 
clear silvery pink, large and full. Madam Abel Chatenay, 
carmine rose shaded with salmon. Madam Jules Grolez, 
bright China rose, Madam Cochet, deep rose pink, 
beautiful in bud and flower, Countess of Shaftesbury, 
silvery carmine, Juliet, vermilion red, reverse of petals, 
old gold, Bessie Brown, creamy white, Kaiserin Augusta 
Victoria, cream shaded lemon, Melanie Soupert, pale 
yellow, suffused carmine. Duchess of Portland, pale 
sulphur yellow, Richmond, bright, light crimson, Mil- 
dred Grant, creamy white, Dean Hole, pale silvery rose, 



Cbofce XTrees an& Sbrubs 311 

deeper shaded on yellow ground, Arthur R. Goodwin, 
coppery orange red, Chateau de Clos-Vougeot, velvety 
scarlet, Duchess of Wellington, intense saffron yellow 
stained with crimson, Edward Mawley, velvety crim- 
son, Entente Cordiale, capucine red with wide yellow 
base, and Farben Konigin, imperial pink or salmon 
pink. 

The azaleas are a charming family and do not receive 
as much attention as they deserve. They are, more- 
over, hardy, except the showy Azalea mollis whose un- 
satisfactory behaviour after cold winters has given the 
entire family a bad name. The colours vary between 
brick red, orange, and yellow white, while rhododendrons 
show white and purple and red and crimson, having a 
decidedly different key of colour. There are many 
species and varieties of azaleas but the best of them 
are native American species, especially A. calendulacea 
or lutea, and the A. ponticum, crossed with the calen- 
dulacea, which are always hardy and fine, while some of 
the varieties containing ponticum alone or mixed with 
tender kinds are not so hardy. These azaleas are all 
deciduous. Japan has given us some good kinds such 
as the deciduous form, Azalea ledejolia narcissiflora 
a mauve type and very hardy, and the evergreen Azalea 
amcena with glossy foliage and masses of deep red 
small flowers. The last is very beautiful, but occasion- 
ally it is touched with frost, though rarely killed. 
Azalea kaempferi is hardy and bears a fine red flower. 
The deciduous azaleas look well in the woods in nooks 
and corners where the shade is not too deep. Rho- 



312 Xanbscape Hrcbitecture 

dodendrons like similar places and in fact should be 
planted underneath or with a background of trees. 
If the trees are planted at the same time as the rhodo- 
dendrons or azaleas the latter will do well, because 
everything can then grow up together. To plant them 
under old trees in dense shade where roots already 
occupy the ground and take up the moisture and fertil- 
ity and to expect them to thrive is asking too much of 
any plant. The best soil for rhododendrons and 
azaleas is mellow loam with plenty of htunus in it to 
retain moisture and lend fertility. If the soil is sandy 
with hard-pan, it should be well cultivated and some 
soil richer in clay and humus added to it ; if it is a stiff 
clay it will doubtless need a good deal of sand. To the 
improper preparation of the soil of rhododendron and 
azalea beds may be attributed much of the failure of 
the plants. 

Of all the members of the rhododendron family 
the best in the judgment of high authorities is the 
Kalmia latifolia, commonly called the mountain laurel. 
The splendid mass of the pinkish white flowers with the 
evergreen foliage make a most impressive combination ; 
and the formation of the flower and the truss has an 
exquisite finish and elegance that should not be over- 
looked, and the colouring is delicate and lovely. There 
is nothing of its kind quite equal to the sight at the 
great Arnold Arboretum near Boston where thousands 
of kalmias or mountain laurels cluster in a glade and 
run up among the trees of a great hemlock-covered 
hillside. 



Cboice XTrees an& Sbrubs 313 

There are many kinds of evergreen-leaved shrubs 
described in nurserymen's catalogues that are hardly 
to be depended on except in favourably situated spots, 
spots that are really quite difficult to find. In this 
country, evergreen trees and shrubs do not, as a rule, 
thrive as well as in England or in many parts of the 
Continent ; but on the other hand, deciduous trees and 
shrubs thrive better here than in Europe. The decid- 
uous shrubs bloom more freely and many trees and 
shrubs grow with more vigour and persistence, soil and 
other conditions being equal. We have been prone in 
the past to model our horticulture too much on that of 
Europe, forgetting how different the conditions are here 
from those abroad. 

The glory of June and summer is the purple and 
golden leaved tree. The purple beeches, the purple 
maples, the golden oaks, the many-coloured Japanese 
maples, one type of which is well named polymorphum 
— all of these plants are rich and glowing with colour 
and their beauty on the lawn cannot be denied. Some 
abnormally coloured leaved trees have been referred 
to in the chapter on Plantations. These naturally 
need avoiding. The most delicate and charming of 
all summer or spring trees, the white birch, should be 
considered here in more detail. Its beauty is not easy 
to establish. The transplanting is difficult and can 
only be done successfully at one season of the year, 
unless by chance, namely in April just as the young 
leaves are pushing out. Even then it is necessary for 
success that the birch be young and recently trans- 



314 XanDscape Hrcbitecture 

planted so that it may have plenty of fibrous roots. 
The weeping cut-leaved form is the best variety for 
the lawn, its stem is so white. 

June is the month of flowers. Later in midsummer, 
few blooms appear. There are the scarlet rambler 
roses and Rosa setigera or the prairie rose, and at this 
season, also, blooms one of the finest of all half trees 
or shrubs, andromeda, or Oxydendron arboreum, the 
sorrel tree. Its flowers are great white tassels like the 
plume on a helmet and the foliage is a rich glossy green. 
It grows slowly like the dogwood at first, but eventually 
it attains great size. This recalls the fact that the dog- 
woods have not been noticed. They are specially 
beautiful in summer after their spring bloom has 
passed. The foliage is fine and so are the branches, 
and they are fine at any age even when a ruin. It is a 
fact, when you come to think of it, there is no deciduous 
shrub of such great, as well as lasting, beauty to be 
found on the lawn, not even the andromeda. It is, 
however, shy in transplanting and takes some time to 
establish itself. 

There is after all so much personality and individual- 
ity in plants that one never knows how to take them. 
They develop such queer freaks and odd divergence 
from ordinary habits. Dogwoods form an instance in 
point. Sometimes they will get away and grow at once 
after transplanting in spite of the fact that they are 
naturally slow in starting, so much so that dry weather 
and other causes kill many of them in the very beginning. 
It is often as hard to diagnose the troubles of plants 




bj3 
5 



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Cboice XTrees ant) Sbrubs 315 

as those of human beings. A rhododendron in good 
health usually termed hardy, will die and nearby a kind 
considered tender will survive. These surprises occur 
frequently with trees and shrubs and should not dis- 
courage any one. The dogwood, the birch, and the 
rhododendron are notable instances of the vagaries of 
plant nature. 

The Virgilia lutea {Cladrastis tinctoria), the yellow- 
wood, is a beautiful tree in midsummer with its smooth 
bark like a beech and graceful branches bearing long 
racemes of sweet-scented, white wistaria-like flowers in 
June. Not unlike the Virgilia lutea, especially in its 
leguminous character, is the laburnum or golden chain. 
It is perfectly hardy, and though seldom seen in this 
country, is a favourite in Europe. Francis Thompson 
writes : 

Mark yonder how the long laburnum drips 
Its jocund spilth of fire, its honey of wild flame. 

The catalpa has some good qualities for summer 
besides its rapid growth, which is sometimes an injury 
to it. The flowers are white and large and make a 
show in June. It is not a first-class shade tree any 
more than the silver maple, poplar, ailanthus (in some 
respects the toughest and finest of trees, barring the 
odour), the weeping willows, and the American ash. 
The beech is the shade tree par excellence for the lawn, 
but not for the street. Its unsiirpassed beauty may 
not be gainsaid. The trunk and bark are wonderful, 
and the foliage is equally fine, especially the purple 



3i6 3Lant)scape Hrcbitecture 

variety. A beech tree, in its prime, fifty or more years 
old, makes a feature on the lawn of inestimable value. 
Money value can hardly express it. Two or three such 
specimens will make an otherwise somewhat ordinary 
place a great and distinguished estate. The beeches are 
hard to transplant and slow of growth in youth, but they 
are well worth the trouble of establishing. The Kolreu- 
teria paniculata (varnish tree) is fine in summer.has been 
long known, and but little used. Its showy panicles of 
yellow flowers are very welcome in July and it is hardy. 
Of all native trees there is hardly any one that quite 
equals the tulip. To hear Henry Ward Beecher praise 
it — for he knew and loved trees — was a treat, es- 
pecially to hear his grand voice roll out with sonorous 
accents its botanical name, Liriodendron tulipijera. 
The tulip makes a lofty tree with a fine stem and lovely 
foliage both in shape and colour, really quite curious in 
its way, and in June the yellow flowers nestle attractively 
among the leaves. It is not an easy tree to transplant, 
having fleshy roots somewhat like the magnolia: it 
should always be set out in the spring, not in the fall. 
The oriental plane is a notable tree in summer with its 
lofty form and thick spreading foliage. There are 
more beautiful trees but few that endure so well difficult 
conditions, especially in cities, or that grow faster and 
at the same time keep their beauty better in mature 
years, and they are not, moreover, difficult to trans- 
plant. It is a mistake to condemn any class of hardy 
trees, for they all have their value. Even poplars, whose 
beauty is apt to be short-lived unless skilfully pruned, 



Cboice Urees ant) Sbrubs 317 

have in some cases a decided advantage of their own. 
The Lombardy poplar, or better still the white- stemmed 
form {Populus alba Bolleana), with its narrow pyra- 
midal growth has a distinct value for its colour as well 
as shape in the landscape, rising from the midst of other 
foliage. Employed as it often is, singly, or in lines, 
alongside a building, or in hedge effects bounding a 
garden or roadway, it is not satisfactory. The lower 
portions are, doubtless, apt to become unsightly, but 
a little pruning, intelligently and occasionally applied, 
will enable its towering form to show out from the 
general mass of foliage on the lawn for many years in 
the most attractive manner. 

Something should be said for the oaks, for much can 
be said against them on account of their slow growth 
and generally crooked stems and tendency to failure 
in transplanting. All this may be said, and yet after 
all there is no family like the oaks. They are kings 
among northern trees. There is the white oak! 
What is there among trees like some specimens to be 
seen along roadsides throughout the country? Summer 
and autumn and winter all the oaks stand for the very 
ideal of strength and beauty, white oak, red oak, scarlet 
oak, pin oak, black oak, willow oak. They should be 
seen to appreciate them, for instance in Flushing, Long 
Island, near New York, the home of fine trees, where 
some of the avenues are lined with oaks. Look at those 
great pin oaks on Bowne Avenue, fifty or sixty feet high, 
with drooping shining foliage and trunks like masts of 
a ship black with age. 



31 8 3Lant)Scape Hrcbitecture 

Another great tree for summer is the linden, the 
European linden in its various forms; the American 
linden or the basswood being a much inferior tree. 
The sweet-scented flowers and the deep shadowing 
foliage make it perhaps the most grateful shade tree 
in summer except the beech and Norway maple. The 
best three forms are the yellowish red kinds {Tilia 
dasystyla) and a specially drooping form, T. petiolaris, 
and the silver-leaved linden {T. argentea or tomentosa) , 
which is the hardiest and most distinct of all. Nothing 
can be finer however, in its way, than a large tree of 
the old-fashioned linden {T. petiolaris). It should be 
remembered that the linden will not bear as much 
hardship as the Norway maple and certain other kinds 
of shade trees. The silver linden is the hardiest of the 
family. 

What shall be said of the elms, American and English, 
both quite distinct in appearance as though they were 
not of the same genus? The American elm with its 
arching, Gothic form is quite familiar, for it may be 
seen everywhere in America, and the streets of the 
towns and cities of New England are greatly dignified 
by its presence. Of late years, however, the American 
elm has gained a bad name on account of the borers and 
other insects that infest it. This is no reason for giving 
up planting it, because horticulturists have learned to 
control these pests with a little care and skill. The old 
trees are hard to clean because they are so large, and 
there are also many of them so old as to be at the end 
of their natural careers, consequently it is no wonder 



Cboice Urees anb Sbrubs 319 

they are dying in many old New England towns. The 
trouble is that nothing will quite take the place of the 
American elm. The wine-cup form is quite unique. 
It is to be hoped the use of the American elm will not 
pass away. 

The English elm is very hardy and stands all sorts 
of difficult exposures, especially on the seashore and in 
cities. For instance, it suits the streets of Boston 
better than almost any other tree. It is not as beauti- 
ful as the linden and maple or even the American elm, 
but the massive dark green foliage is fine and the tree 
grows to great size and age. Its growth is quite rapid. 

There is a tree, the ginkgo, which is so unique and 
excellent that it demands a few moments' attention. It 
is a strange looking tree. It might have come from 
another planet. Indeed, it is one of the oldest trees 
on earth, having been found in one of the lowest strata 
where fossil plant life appears. There is but one species 
and one variety and it is found native in the region of 
Northern China. The leaves are fan-shaped and weird 
and eastern looking. It is, moreover, hardy and free 
from disease to an extent that can scarcely be said of 
any other tree. The cones grow on the branches in a 
curious way, but it seldom fruits and then only if it 
stands near a female tree of the same kind, for it is 
diascious. The great arms of these trees thrust them- 
selves in the sky in strange fashion and yet some of the 
most notable specimens in America, in front of the 
Smithsonian Institute in Washington, District of 
Columbia, are broad and massive. The forms it as- 



320 Xant>scape Hrcbftecture 

sumes are myriad, and it is only apt to grow well after 
it is about ten years old. It is not a good shade tree. 
Its transplanting qualities are excellent. 

Another tree of many interesting qualities is the 
deciduous cypress. Its form is picturesque as well as 
symmetrical. Delicate foliage and erect carriage give 
it dignity and elegance. There is a variety of it, the 
Chinese cypress (wrongly so-called, as it is a form of 
the American deciduous cypress), which is particularly 
refined and elegant. This tree naturally likes low wet 
ground, although it will grow well on high land. Fine 
specimens may be seen on the streets of Flushing, 
Long Island, on ordinary high land. One drawback it 
has, that of putting out its foliage very late in spring, 
as late as the middle of May. 

The mountain-ash is a fine tree bearing beautiful 
berries. It is of moderate size and classes in that re- 
spect with the white birch. The Sophora japonica (the 
Japanese pagoda tree) is little used although it is ex- 
cellent, and perfectly hardy, bearing quantities of yel- 
low flowers in June in the midst of attractive foliage. 

There are a few shrubs that have not been touched on 
which are well suited for summer bloom on the lawn. 
Very hardy and picturesque is the Aralia pentaphylla. 
It is somewhat low and compact in growth and al- 
together much superior to the Aralia japonica, the 
angelica tree from Japan, sometimes known as the 
devil's walking-stick, a great awkward, aggressive-look- 
ing object with large, ragged, tropical-looking foliage. 
The angelica tree is perfectly hardy, but so coarse 



Cbofce Urees ant) Sbrubs 321 

looking that there are few places where it is acceptable. 
Some of the buddleias are fine and suited for summer 
effect, especially the variety Buddleia veitchii. The 
callicarpa is a good summer flowering shrub and so 
is the sweet-scented shrub calycanthus; and Chionan- 
thus virginica is tall with fine, large, deep green foliage 
with fragrant, drooping, open clusters of white flowers, 
lace-like in appearance, hence its name, white fringe 
tree. The weigelas or diervillas make fine summer 
shrubs, especially Weigela lavallee, bearing deep crim- 
son flowers all through the summer; of the same type 
is the bloom of the weigela, Eva Ratke, whose great 
masses of deep crimson make a rich effect in the summer. 
The Elaeagnus family is worth growing because it is 
so vigorous and has such silvery shades on the under 
sides of the leaves. It is called the silver-thorn or the 
oleaster, and although somewhat coarse, its great vigour 
and hardiness make it valuable for the lawn. The 
Elceagnus longipes is the best kind and is notable for 
its profusion of red berries in August and edible fruit 
in autumn. The rose of Sharon, althea or hibiscus, 
has its value for its brilliant midsummer flowering. 
The plant is vigorous and hardy and easily trans- 
planted, but it is coarse and stiff looking in habit. 
Potentilla jruticosa, shrubby cinquefoil, bears on its low 
form bright yellow flowers in summer among narrow 
fuzzy leaves. The mock oranges (Philadelphus) are 
excellent shrubs, large, vigorous, and healthy, bearing 
showy flowers, somewhat like those of the orange; 
Philadelphus grandiflora and Philadelphus coronarius 



322 %an5scape Hrcbitecture 

are two of the best kinds. Rhamnus catharticus, the 
buckthorn, is very hardy and suited to places where it 
is Hkely to have bad usage. It has good foHage and red 
berries in summer, turning black. Rhamnus frangula 
is, perhaps, the best species of the genus. 

St. John's-wort, the hypericum, a July flowering 
shrub, is quite low in size with quanities of bright 
yellow flowers and compact foliage. The largest flower 
is, perhaps, that of Hypericum moserianum and the best 
kind Hypericum kalmianum. Kerria japonica, the globe 
flower, is another good summer blooming shrub. It is 
dwarf with bright yellow flowers and green branches. 
It is hardy, pretty, and rather refined. Rhodotypus 
kerrioides is a valuable shrub from Japan. The foliage 
is of a specially fresh and light green colour, making 
an excellent contrast to that of most other shrubs, 
and after all it is the foliage that counts; the flowers 
last such a comparatively short time. The flowers 
of the Rhodotypus are not specially conspicuous and 
the black berries are borne all winter. Rubus odoratus, 
the flowering raspberry, is pretty all summer with its 
clusters of beautiful pink or purple fragrant blossoms. 

The spiraeas are a numerous family and apt to look 
a little weedy on the lawn. Spircea Anthony Waterer 
is one of the latest varieties, bearing bright-coloured 
flowers nearly all summer. Spirceas bumaldi, callosa, 
billardii, and doiiglasi all have red flowers, most all 
summer, and even though the flowers are gone, the 
delicate light green foliage of Spircea thunbergii makes 
it a fine summer shrub. Symphoricarpus vulgaris 



Cbofce XTrees an& SF)rubs 323 

(coral berry) is a humble little shrub, but it is useful 
with its red and yellow berries all summer in connexion 
with larger shrubs. 

Stuartia pentagynia is a lovely shrub that is little 
known and not quite hardy in the Middle States. The 
flowers are strikingly large, of pearly whiteness, with 
orange-coloured anthers. The leaves are a bright rich 
green, reddish beneath. The whole shrub looks not 
unlike a camelia. Styrax japonica has a little the 
appearance of the dogwood, only its habit is not as 
good; it is, however, hardy, the flowers are pure white, 
bell-shaped, and arranged in pendulous groups, and 
bloom in May and early June. 

The lilacs are the glory of spring. Few flowers are 
so popular both for odour and colour, and the foliage is 
massive and green throughout the summer and is 
specially suited to the garden. There are a number of 
tamarisks, both erect and spreading; some of them 
are naturally hardier than others. They all belong 
in exposed places near the shore or the brink of some 
feature of water, or in the seams of or near by rocks. 
They are wild looking and odd and graceful and bear 
bright red flowers in summer mingled with light 
feathery foliage. The tamarisk does not group well 
with other shrubs and should, therefore, be kept some- 
what by itself. The best kinds are Tamarisk ajricana. 
Tamarisk gallica, Tamarisk germanica, and Tamarisk 
indica, and, perhaps, the hardiest and most generally 
useful is Tamarisk ajricana. 

The snowballs (viburnums) are an important family 



324 Xant)6cape Hrcbitecture 

and include many species and varieties most valuable 
for grouping with other shrubs on the lawn. Their 
appearance is varied. The large-sized flowers of Vi- 
burnum plicatum, the well-known Japanese form, are 
much like Viburnum tomentosum, only the latter is 
more bushy, with less showy flowers, while on the other 
hand, the native Viburnum acerifolium, Viburnum 
cassinoides, and Viburnum dentatum are beautiful 
and valuable for their foliage, but not as much for their 
flowers, and they are different in almost every way from 
the Japanese or Chinese kinds, plicatum, dilatatum, and 
macrocephalum, while Viburnum lentago and Viburnum 
lantana are each beautiful in their way. The Viburnum 
oxycoccus, or opulus, and opulus sterilis have beautiful 
large white flowers, and in the case of the first, splen- 
did red fruit in autumn. Viburnum sieboldii — if you 
have ever seen it, you have beheld the finest of the 
family. When mature, it is almost a tree, and has 
splendid large thick glossy foliage not easily described. 
The flowers are white and grow in more or less erect 
open clusters, and red berries decorate it in autumn. 
The little recognized Viburnum prunifolium (black haw 
or stag bush) comes a close second to the Viburnum 
sieboldii. Its foliage is glossy and fine and compact 
and picturesque and the autumn colouring is unsur- 
passed among shrubs except by the dogwood, androm- 
eda, and Euonymus alatus. 

And this leads to the consideration of the autumn 
coloured trees and shrubs. A list of some of them may 
be of value to induce study of catalogues and botanies 



Cboice ITrees anb Sbrubs 325 

to learn their habits; the best of them are maples (red 
and scarlet), the Japanese polymorphum, the striatum, 
the sugar, the circinatum, and Tartaricum ginnali, a 
brilliantly red kind. Then come the Nyassa multiflora, 
sour-gum or pepperidge, the red oak, the scarlet oak, 
the white oak {Quercus alba), the swamp white oak 
{Quercus bicolor), and the pin oak {Quercus palustris) 
and the liquidambar: these with the dogwoods, an- 
dromedas, the sumacs (Rhus aromatica,Rhus glabra, and 
Rhus typhina), and Berberis thunbergi, our excellent 
friend of the spring flowering kinds. In addition to 
the beautiful fall colour, there are the bright red berried 
kinds, Japanese Rosa rugosa, other roses, the barberries, 
and other hawthorns. 

There is one shrub that is becoming deservedly pop- 
ular and that is really in almost a class by itself, and 
that is the Euonymus alatiis. Its red is unique. There 
is nothing just like it. The crimson is not exactly a 
fiery one, but there is a glow in the heart of it that is 
quite indescribable. You notice it afar off. Perhaps 
this red is not better than the velvety sheen of the dog- 
wood autumn colour, but it is a surprise and a delight. 
The hydrangeas are a family which, while not noticeable 
for the colour of the leaf, make an important feature on 
the autumn lawn. They have large massive foliage 
and some species a silvery under surface, but their chief 
beauty is the flower. This grows in great trusses of a 
white colour which fade in September to pink, red, 
purple, and brown colour. Beside this flower which 
comes at a season when hardly anything else is in bloom, 



326 Xan&scape Hrcbitecture 

the foliage is somewhat uninteresting and a little coarse. 
On one kind, Hydrangea paniculata grandiflora, the 
flowers hang their heads in a somewhat heavy fashion. 
The Hydrangea paniculata tardiva, as it is sometimes 
called, has an erect spike of bloom which lasts much 
longer and is more attractive. Probably on account of 
this late blooming faculty the hydrangea has become 
very popular. It is a shrub that needs sharp pruning 
any time after it has bloomed in fall until it begins to 
put out leaves in spring. There is a way of pruning 
during the summer that induces growth of flower-bear- 
ing wood. Hydrangea hortensia is not hardy, but 
bears beautiful flowers. It is grown in tubs. The 
paniculata type is very hardy. 

To the ornamental vines some consideration should 
be given. They are all fine: wistaria, Japan ivy {Am- 
pelopsis veitchii), Virginia creeper, climbing roses, 
especially the Japanese kind Wichuriana, the trumpet 
vine {Bignonia grandiflora) , and of less value Bignonia 
radicans, honeysuckles, climbers and half bush ones, 
Sullivanti and Periclymenum belgica, Euonymus rad- 
icans, the only evergreen climber of the lot, English 
ivy being of little value in this climate of America, 
the periwinkle {Vinca minor), matrimony vine, lycium 
in variety, the wild grape (the fox grape), Vitis labrusca, 
the Dolichos japonica (kidsu vine) , fastest of growers, 
forty feet in one season, bitter-sweet, Celastris scandens, 
Dutchman's-pipe, Aristolochia sipho, a hardy, strong- 
growing, tropical-looking vine with large light green 
leaves; finally the Clematis family, the native kinds, 



Gboice XIrees ant) Sbrubs 327 

Clematis virginiana (the virgin 's-bower), and Clematis 
paniculata, one of the most attractive and profusely 
blooming climbers with white flowers in August. The 
clematis hybrids are charming, purple, white, pink, red, 
and blue; only they are a little difficult to grow in this 
climate of New York State. Actinidia polygama is 
vigorous and picturesque. 

There is one shrub that has not been mentioned and 
yet it is probably the most useful plant of all, and that 
is the privet. There are many kinds of privet, ever- 
green and deciduous, hardy and tender, and they are 
all interesting in their own way, but there are three that 
count a great deal in all lawn planting. The so-called 
California privet from Japan {Ligustrum ovalijolium) 
is used for hedges everywhere in Europe and America. 
Doubtless millions of plants are grown every year and 
it behaves well on all occasions except once in a few 
years a severe winter comes along and kills it, although 
it hardly ever altogether dies, but springs up the next 
season. It transplants well, grows fast, and if properly 
pruned will retain its beauty for many years. Perhaps 
it is felt to be a little stiff in form and monotonous, but 
it has glossy green foliage and if allowed to grow freely 
makes in time a good shape. Its stiffness probably 
persists in our minds on account of its frequent use as 
that abomination of vegetation, a hedge. The Euro- 
pean privet has not so fine a shade of green, but in other 
ways greatly resembles it. The best privet is the 
Ligustrum regelianum from China, and this is rapidly 
being recognized. It has a graceful weeping, somewhat 



328 OLan^scape Hrcbitecture 

spreading habit and the leaves are grouped in a quaint, 
odd fashion. In time it grows to considerable size, 
but it always retains its graceful-, quaint habit, and 
needs but little pruning. There are no shrubs perhaps 
that are so generally useful on the lawn as these un- 
obtrusive privets. 

Coming to the winter time our thoughts naturally 
turn to the evergreens. There are white-stemmed 
birches, red-stemmed dogwoods, yellow- and red- 
stemmed willows, and the berries that linger on them 
from fall, but the evergreens after all make the winter 
landscape and create by far the major part of its 
interest. 

The Abies or firs are a numerous family, stately and 
of great size and beauty. There are firs and spruces 
in Europe one hundred and twenty feet high. The 
hemlock, Picea canadensis, or more properly Tsuga 
canadensis, is a beautiful, graceful evergreen that does 
not grow so rapidly as some others, but is easily trans- 
planted and generally hardy, although it is apt to 
suffer from severe cold and winds in early spring, during 
the earlier years of its growth. There is a beautiful 
form of it called Tsuga carolinianum because it was 
found in the mountains of North Carolina. It is very 
symmetrical and has a drooping grace at the end of its 
branches and deep shadows in the inner spaces of its 
foliage in the case of a somewhat mature tree that is 
very lovely. 

The white fir {Abies concolor) is, perhaps, after the 
hemlock, the finest of the firs. Its young growth is of 



Cboice XTrees an& Sbrubs 329 

unequalled beauty, light coloured, rich, and drooping, 
and there is the same beauty in its inner spaces which 
has been noticed in the Carolina hemlock. One of 
the finest evergreens to be seen anywhere is a specimen 
of Abies concolor in the Arnold Arboretum, Jamaica 
Plain, Boston, Mass. It stands forty feet high, is some- 
what narrow compared to many other evergreens of 
the same size, but is compact and of perfect symmetry 
and unsurpassed colour. The colour is finer than that 
of the highly prized blue spruce, Picea pungens, but 
more of that hereafter. Abies nobilis (noble silver fir) 
is fine for its deep blue colour and picturesque form, 
but many of the silver firs that thrive in Europe do not 
in North America, and this is one. Noteworthy in 
this respect are the balsam firs, Nordman's fir, Euro- 
pean silver fir {Abies pectinata), and Silver Spanish fir 
{Abies pinsapo). The Veitch's silver fir {Abies veitchii) 
and the Nikko fir {Abies homolepis, synonym brachy- 
phylla) are, however, entirely hardy and satisfactory. 
The biotas or Chinese arbor- vitas can hardly be said 
to be entirely hardy in the northern States of America. 
The biotas are a beautiful family with fine tints of blue 
and green and gold. 

The cedars, so beautiful in Europe, Lebanon, deo- 
dara, and Atlas, are not hardy in the Middle States of 
the United States. The cryptomerias, especially the 
lobbi, which is certainly hardy, are strange, oriental 
looking trees that seem a little out of place in American 
or European landscapes. They belong, particularly, 
in a Japanese garden. The cypresses, especially 



330 Xan55cape Brcbitecture 

Lawson's, are very lovely in Europe, but they do not 
succeed in the Middle States of the United States. 
The junipers, on the other hand, are equally attractive 
and in many cases do well, though one of the best of 
them, the Irish juniper, does not succeed in the Middle 
States, Its narrow pyramidal form makes it a valuable 
plant in grouping. The American pyramidal forms, the 
red cedar and its varieties, are almost always hardy ; yet 
what plant is absolutely hardy? 

The red cedar is as effective in lawn planting as the 
celebrated Italian cypresses, which do not grow here. 
There are more or less trailing forms of juniper, Juni- 
perus canadensis, the Savin juniper and its variety of 
great beauty, tamariscijolia, and also quite as trailing 
are Juniperus squamata and Juniperus procumbens, 
all excellent to use in connexion with rocks or along 
borders of streams. The Japanese and Chinese juni- 
pers are nearly all good and do not grow out of size. 
They have most picturesque and elegant forms. Some 
of them are Juniperus chinensis, Juniperus pfitzeriana, 
and Juniperus japonica. There is a blue Virginia cedar 
called tripartita that is excellent for planting near 
rocks. It has a wild and rustic look and is irregular and 
spreading in habit. The entire juniper family is most 
valuable on the lawn. 

Among the spruces (the Piceas) the old Picea excelsa, 
the common Norway spruce, is not proving altogether 
satisfactory, as the years go on, but generally its prox- 
imity to the seashore will be found to be the cause of its 
failure, or it may have been grown too far south. The 



Cboicc Uvccs ant) Sbrubs 331 

northern part of New York or Massachusetts suits it 
better than Washington, D. C. Moreover, when it 
becomes old, it is not always attractive in colour and 
form. 

The white spruce is better and succeeds in more 
places, but even it has its favourite spots, and they are 
not so far north as those suited to the Norway spruce. 
The attractive lighter shades of the white spruce form 
another of its attractions, but for really fine blue tints it 
is necessary to go to the real blue spruces, Picea pimgens 
otPicea engelmani. They are the richest of all the blue 
spruces. The most intensely blue are the grafted plants 
of Picea pungens, but seedlings are more symmetrical 
and make finer trees when fully developed, although 
some of them do not show as deep a shade of blue and 
silver. A hardy and picturesque dark fir is Picea 
omorica, and although there are many other firs, 
hardly any others than those mentioned can be said 
to be satisfactory in the climate of the Middle States of 
the United States. In many parts of Great Britain 
many others do well. The spruces (Piceas) have great 
value in landscape gardening. The Norway spruce is 
well known everywhere and its towering form and rapid 
growth are always fine. As already noted, it has not the 
beauty, however, of some other kinds and is a little 
more liable to disease in North America. An instance 
of a superior kind is the oriental spruce {Picea orien- 
talis). This might be termed a highly refined Norway 
spruce. It is hardier, has richer, more closely set 
foliage, most beautiful colour, and often retains its 



332 Xanbscape Brcbitecture 

beauty to great age. Though a little difficult to trans- 
plant and at first slow of growth it eventually attains 
great size and stateliness. Picea omorica, already men- 
tioned, is somewhat like the last, only it has a very 
dark colour, darker than almost any evergreen except the 
yew. It is, unfortunately, little known and appreciated. 
Alcock's spruce {Picea alcockiana) has fine close set 
foliage, silvery underneath, and it is quite hardy. Picea 
polita, the tiger-tail spruce, is quaint with its dark 
rich foliage and shape of branches suggesting a tiger's 
tail. It is a very rugged kind. Of course, there are 
other fine spruces, but the ones mentioned are most 
useful for a lawn laid out on a well-conceived landscape 
design and not for a museum of evergreens. 

The pines are always fine and the number of kinds is 
considerable. Some of the common American sorts, 
however, head the list for hardiness and usefulness, 
although they are, unfortunately, not much used. 
Pinus resinosa, red pine, is such a one and so is Pinus 
regida, pitch pine, though less beautiful. It is most use- 
ful, however, on poor, sandy land. The native white 
pine {Pinus strobus) is, on the other hand, fully appre- 
ciated though it is native. It is perhaps the most 
beautiful evergreen of North America. It attains a 
lofty size and is sometimes damaged by wind storms and 
ice, but it is lovely in its colouring. The Bhotan pine 
{Pinus excelsa) much resembles the white pine except 
the needles are a little longer and more graceful. It is 
not quite as hardy as the white pine. Then there is 
Pinus parviflora with its blue shades. Quite distinct, 



Cboice TLVCC5 an5 Sbrubs 333 

however, is the widely grown Austrian pine (Pwus 
austrica) . This is the best of all evergreens for the sea- 
shore or very much exposed places. It grows fast, and 
is a positive feature in the landscape with its fine dark 
masses of foliage. In a dwarfer, more compact way, 
Pinus mughtis, the Mugho pine, is about as hardy, and 
has a very decided and pleasing effect on the lawn. 
Pinus cembra, the Swiss stone pine (not the Italian 
stone pine which is tender in northern climates), is 
very hardy, has a pyramidal compact form, and grows 
slowly, although it attains considerable size. 

The yews are a fine family of evergreens, one of the 
very best, but in America they are most of them not 
really hardy, that is, the winter is apt to destroy their 
beauty even if it does not kill them. There is a spread- 
ing yew, Taxus repandens, whose dark green foliage will 
sometimes cover a space fifteen feet square. Its chief 
value is its great hardiness. The last yew that will be 
mentioned is Taxus cuspidata, the best of the family for 
all purposes and in certain ways the best of all ever- 
greens. The foliage is deep green and glossy ; it grows 
as a rule compactly, but it takes on various forms, some 
low and even dwarf, and others pyramidal and of 
considerable size. All these forms are hardy and ex- 
ceedingly effective in every way. The umbrella pine 
{Sciadopitys verticillata) looks like a yew, but it is not. 
Its form is symmetrical and its colour deep and glossy ; 
a beautiful tree and a choice tree but no longer so very 
rare. The Japanese are sending them over in consider- 
able numbers and they are grown in this country and 



334 Xan5scape Hrcbitecture 

Europe. A large tree of this umbrella pine twenty- 
feet high, as it can be seen in Europe, is a fine sight. 
It is quite hardy. 

The Thuyas (arbor-vitse) are most of them hardy, 
compact, and of pyramidal form. Their colouring is not 
as fine as the biotas, but they are hardier. Most of 
them are varieties of the American arbor- vitae. There 
is a Thuya standishii, that is hardy and graceful with 
slightly pendulous branches. The Retinosporas are a 
beautiful family, but some of the kinds fall into a bad 
condition unless they are frequently pruned. This ap- 
plies to the Retinospora plumosa, squarrosa and psifera; 
Retinospora obtusa and filifera are better. There is 
also a weeping hemlock (Sargent's weeping hemlock) 
which should have been noted before as a very beautiful 
evergreen, and also Tsuga sieholdii, a hemlock of very 
deep green colour, compact and hardy and a good tree 
though seldom seen on lawns. It should be understood 
that the term hardiness is meant in all cases to apply 
to the Middle States of the United States. 

These notes are closed with the evergreens. Peren- 
nials and bedding plants of the tender kinds are too 
extended a subject to properly discuss within the limited 
space of this book. Moreover, such plants as the 
irises, phloxes, larkspurs, pinks, hollyhocks, peonies, 
the bedding plants, cannas, salvias, geraniums, and 
coleuses fill up the minor spaces of the landscape picture. 
They have great beauty, perhaps as much as anything 
on the lawn, but they do not count much in the general 
survey of the picture. It would not be unpleasant or 



Cboice TLvccs anD Sbrubs 335 

a failure if they were not present; their presence would, 
on the other hand, lend a charm, a loveliness to the 
scene that can hardly be overstated. It would, there- 
fore, be of great advantage to study diligently these 
plants. 

Finally, in closing this chapter it should be noted that 
very many kinds have been left unconsidered not be- 
cause they do not have value for the lawn in both this 
country and Europe, but because it was necessary in 
one short chapter to limit the purview to the most dis- 
tinctive, easily obtained, and most important from a 
landscape gardener's point of view. If neglect or over- 
sight is felt, it should be charged to lack of space and 
the desire to avoid the appearance of a nurseryman's 
catalogue. 



Note. — The Douglas spruce is one of the best of evergreens for hardi- 
ness, vigour, and graceful symmetry, and for its beautiful bluish green 
colour. 



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333 Xan^scape Hrcbitecture 

Latham, Charles. The Gardens of Italy. London, 1905. 
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Bibliograpb^ 339 

Norton, J. B. S. Rose Mildew. Maryland Experiment Station, 191 1. 
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How to Plan Home Grounds. New York, 1901. 

Landscape Gardening Studies. New York, 19 10. 

Parsons, Samuel B. The Rose. New York, 1888. 

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Peets, E. Practical Tree Repair. New York, 1913. 

Pemberton, Rev. Joseph H. Roses, their History, Development, and 

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Pinchot, Gifford. a Primer of Forestry. Washington, 1899. 
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Powell, R. Payson. The Country Home. New York, 1894. 
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Puckler-Muskau, Prince. Andentungen der landschaftsgartnerei, 

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340 Xanbscape Brcbitecture 

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Sedding, John D. Garden Craft Old and New. London, 1892. 

Sennert, a. R. Garden Cities in Theory and Practice. 

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Praise of Gardens. 1885. 

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1884. 

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INDEX 



Abies (Fir) brachyphylla, 329 
Abies concolor, 329 
Abies, European silver fir, 329 
A bies nobilis, 329 
Abies, Veitch's silver fir, 329 
Addison, Joseph, Chinese lands- 
cape gardening, 15 
Ailanthics, 315 
Althea (rose of Sharon), 321 
Andr^, Edouard, nature playing 

a ridiculous part, 37 
Angelo, Michael, Pantheon and 

St. Peter's Dome, 84 
Apollinaris, translated by Sir 

Henry Wotton, 7 
Aralia japonica, 320 
Aralia pentaphylla, 320 
Arbor-vitas, Chinese, 329 
Arbutus, Warwick Castle, 117 
Architect, function of, 103 
Aristotle, 203 
Ash, mountain, 320 
Attiret, Jesuit Father, Chinese 

imitation of nature in gardening, 

8 
Authorities, value of, 31 
Autumn fruits for ornament: 

Barberries, 325 

Hawthorns, 325 

Rosa rugosa, 325 
Autumn shrubs for colour: 

Andromeda arborea, 325 

Berberis thiinbergi, 325 

Dogwood {Cornus florida), 325 

Sumac, 325 
Azaleas, best and hardiest kinds, 

311 

Bagehot, Walter, Garden of Eden, 

10 
Beale, R., 65 
Beckford, William, BoboHGardens, 

250-252 



Beech, 315 

Benson, Arthur C, the quality of 
charm, 236 

Berberis thunhergi, 307 

Biran, Maine de, emotion in- 
spired by landscape gardening, 

54 
Birch, white, 320 
Boboli Gardens, 79 
Boyle (E. V. B.), Mrs., ItaHan 

gardens, 253 
Bridge, Boulder, Central Park, 

New York City, 293 
Bridge, Bow, Central Park, New 

York City, 291 
Bridges, 181, 290 
Bridges, Robert, 162, 258 
Brown, Launcelot, 19 
Buddleia veitchii, 321 

Cactus, wild (prickly pear), 

Opiintia vulgaris, 172 
Callicarpa, 321 
Catalpa syringafolia, 315 
Catullus, address to Lake Sirio, 52 
Cedar: 

Atlas, 329 

Deodara, 329 

Lebanon, 329 
Chambers, Sir William, Pckin 

gardens, 8; Petit Trianon, 19 
Claude, value of study of nature, 

32 
Clematis, base of wall, 173 
Coleridge, S. T., dream of poem, 

67; knowledge of parks, 68 
Colour effects in landscape gar- 
dening, 57 
Conn, Prof. H. W., 123, 125 
Constable, art of, 83 
Croce, Benedetto, 39 
Cryptomeria lobbi, 329 
Cusa, Nicholas de, 74 



343 



344 



1Int)ei 



Cypress, deciduous, 320 
Cypress, Lawson's, 330 

Delille, AbW, 11, 15 

Ditch or Ha-ha, use of, 96 

Douglas spruce (Pseudo-Tsuga 
Douglasi), 335 

Downing, Andrew Jackson, 22, 41, 
61, 264, 265, 266 

Drives, 135 

Dufresny, Charles, early advo- 
cate of the natural style, 2 1 

Durham Cathedral, water effect, 
160 

Elaagnus (silverthorn or oleaster) 
longipes, 321 

Eliot, Charles, character of the 
landscape gardening of Prince 
Piickler, 26; plantations in 
harmony with environment, 
221-224 

Elm, American, 318 

Elm, English, 319 

Eucken, Rudolph, order pre- 
scribed by nature, 2 

Euonytnus alatus, 324 

Euonymus radicans, 173 

Evolution of landscape gardening. 



Fence on boundary of Muskau 

Park, 100 
Fenelon, love of nature, 55-56 
Ferns, base of wall, 173 
Fichte, 227 
Forsythia fortuni, 307 
Forsythia viridissima, 307 
Fountains, 157, 257 
Fringe, white (Chionanthus vir- 

ginica), 321 
Fruit trees, double flowering 

kinds, 308 

Garden, Chinese, 67; New College, 
Oxford, England, 263 

Garden and Forest, vol. i., p. 8, 
Prof. C. S. Sargent's artificial 
lake, 158-159; vol. i., p. 52, 
description of bridge, Dart- 
moor, England, 181 

Garden of Damascus, 3 

Garden of Eden, in Paradise Lost, 

ID 

Garden, old-fashioned, 262-263 



Gardening, French, 24 

Gardens, hanging, 5 

Ginkgo tree {Salisburia adianti- 
folia), 319 

Girardon, Marquis, owner of 
estate of Ermenouvelle where 
Rousseau was buried, 17 

Goethe, appreciation of Prince 
Piickler, 2 

Grasses, 129 

Grouping of shrubs along side- 
walk, 100 

Hawthorn, English (Cratcegus oxy- 
cantha), 308 

Hawthorns, American, 308 

Hegel, 203 

Hemlock (Tsuga canadensis), 328 

Hilgard, Prof. E. W., 125 

Hirschfeldt, Theorie der Garden 
Kunst, 155 

Hoffding, Harold, action of feel- 
ing when passing from the old 
to new, 300 

Home, Henry, Lord Kaimes, emo- 
tion inspired by gardening, 53 

Honeysuckle for fence, 93 

Horsechestnut, white and red 
flowering, 307 

Horticulture not necessarily 
landscape gardening, 73 

Horticulturist, by A. J. Downing, 
269 

House, adjustment to landscape, 
1 06 ; relation to outbuildings, 1 09 

House leek (sempervivtini), 172 

Huet, Pierre Daniel, early advo- 
cate of natural style, 19 

Hugo, Victor, natural style versus 
formal style, 24 

Humus, 122, 123, 129 

Hunt, Leigh, lines on a fountain, 

257 
Hydrangea hortensia, 326 
Hydrangea paniculata grandiflora, 

326 
Hydrangea paniculata tardiva, 326 
Hypericum kalmianuni, 322 
Hypericum moserianum, 322 

Iris, base of wall, 173 
Irving, Washington, 259 
Ivy, Tin tern Abbey, 104 
Ivy, Japanese (Ampelopsis veit- 
chii), 173 



1In&ei 



345 



Japanese art, ideas about Central 

Park by a Japanese artist, 64 
Jefferies, Richard, 80, 81, 210, 243, 

258 
Jekyll, Gertrude, use of rocks, 

171 
Johnson, Dr. Samuel, approves of 

landscape gardening, 17 
Johnson, Prof. S. W., 125 



Jun 
Jun 
Jun 
Jun 
Jun 
Jun 
Jun 
Jun: 
Jun 



per, Chinese, 330 
per, Irish, 330 
per, Italian, 330 
per, red cedar, 330 
perus, japonica, 330 
perus, pfitzeriana, 330 
perus, procumbens, 330 
perus, squamata, 330 
perus, tripartita, 330 



Kant, Immanuel, iv 

Keats, John, 262 

Kent, William, 21 

Kerria japonica, 322 

Kinglake, A. W., 3 

Kingsland, Mayor of New York 
City, discussing park sites, 267 

Knight, Richard Payne, treat- 
ment around the house, 108 

Koempfer, Engelbert, Dutch bot- 
anist and traveller, 9 

Laburnum, golden chain, 315 

La Farge, John, 6, 38 

Landor, Walter Savage, gardens, 

249 
Landscape gardening, requisites 

for perfection, 52 
Langley, Battey, execution of 

plan, 45 
Larch, great size at Warwick 

Castle, 117 
Laurel, mountain (Kalmia lati- 

folia), 312 
Lee, Vernon, Italian gardens, 249 
Leibnitz, Gottfried Wilhelm, 71 
L'Enfant, concerning original de- 
sign of Washington, D. C, 303 
Le Notre, 16, 17, 147 
Lilacs, 323 
Linden, European varieties: 

argentea, 318 

dasystyla, 318 

petiolaris, 318 
Liquid ambar, autumn colour, 325 
Loudon, J. C, 22, 36 



Magnolia conspicua in Central 

Park, 308 
Maples, autumn coloured: 

Circinatum, 325 

Polymorphum, 325 

Striatum, 325 

Sugar, 325 

Tartaricum gitmali, 325 
Meynell, Alice, Mrs., ideal of 

garden, 256 
Milton, John, description of 

Garden of Eden, 10 
Montesquieu, essay on taste, 15 
Morel, M., laid out estate of 

Ermenouville, 17 
Mt. Vernon, home of George 

Washington, 59 
Muskau Park, as it now exists 

after alterations by Prince 

Piickler, 60; as it originally 

appeared, 60 

Nero, parks and Golden House, 6 
Newman, John Henry, respect 

for all kinds of beauty, 58 
Nolen, John, editor of last edition 

of Humphrey Repton, vi 

Oak (Quercus), black, 317 
Oak (Querctis), pin, 317 
Oak (Quercus), red, 317 
Oak (Quercus), scarlet, 317 
Oak (Quercus), white, 317 
Oak (Quercus), willow, 317 
Olmsted, Frederick Law, creator 
of Central Park, New York, 26; 
beauty of landscape gardening 
far-reaching, 36; Mt. Royal 
Park, Montreal, Canada, report, 
138; two types of park sites, 
269; value of certain property 
for parks, 272; sanative eflfect 
of parks on mind and body, 273; 
view beyond borders of prop- 
erty, 278 
Olmsted & Vaux, design of Central 
Park, New York City, vi; 
concerning the natural style of 
park design, 28; roads and 
paths, 139; meadow effects, 
Central Park, New York City, 
232 ; value of pastoral landscape, 
275; choice of park site, 275- 
278; creation of pastoral scen- 
ery, 280-285 



346 



Unbei 



Park, roads and paths, 142; sana- 
tive effect of, 272; scenery of, 
286; accessory elements of, 289; 
treatment of , Washington , D . C . , 
301 
Park, Babelsberg, 60 
Park, Central, New York City, 70, 

94, 142, 183; rockwork, 180 
Park, English, character of enclos- 
ure, 95 
Park, Muskau, character of en- 
closure, 94; development one 
hundred years ago, 70 
Pekin, gardens of, 69 
Pepperidge (Nyssa muUiflora), 325 
Philadelphus coronarius, 321 
Philadelphus grandiflora, 321 
Picea alcockiana, 332 
Picea (blue) engelmani, 331 
Picea (blue) pungens, 331 
Picea (Norway) excelsa, 331 
Picea omorica, 332 
Picea orientalis, 331 
Picea (tigertail) polita, 332 
Picea (white) alba, 331 
Pine, umbrella {Sciadopitys verii- 

cillata), 333 
Pinus austriaca, 333 
Pinus (Bhotan) excelsa, 332 
Pinus (Mugho) Mughus, 333 
Pinus parviflora, 333 
Pinus (pitch) rigida, 332 
Pinus (red) resinosa, 332 
Pinus (Swiss stone) cembra, 333 
Pinus (white) strobus, 332 
Plato, causes of things, iii 
Pliny the Younger describing his 

villa, 7 
Polo, Marco, residence in Cathay, 

67 
Pope, Alexander, genius of place, 

15 

Poplar, Lombardy, use in connex- 
ion with bridges, 291 ; proper 
use of, 317 
Pordenone, Oderic of, Franciscan 

friar and traveller, 68 
P otentilla fruticosa (shrubby 

cinquefoil), 321 
Price, principles of Claude, 35 
Prickly pear (wild cactus) , 92 
Privet (Ligustrum ovalifolium) , 

327 
Privet {Ligustrum regelianum) , 327 
Puckler, Prince, von Muskau, 120; 



treatment of the Bois de Bou- 
logne, 29; architecture in the 
landscape, 29; importance of 
prompt correction of mistakes, 
47; estate of, 60; garden art 
compared with music, 81 ; size 
of estate, 84; Claude, 87; Eng- 
lish, French, Italian, and 
Roman gardens, 87; grading, 
184; definition of the term 
"garden," 241; Chiswick flower 
gardens, 262 
Purchas, Marco Polo's travels, 67 

Racine, free nature, 55 

Rapin, formal style of landscape 
gardening, 11 

Repton, Humphry, v, 21, 22, 
23; requisites for landscape 
gardening, 52; landscape treat- 
ment around the house, 102; 
design of house, 107; treatment 
of distant views, 113; water, 

147 

Retinospora filifera, 334 
Retinospora obtusa, 334 
Retinospora pkimosa, 334 
Retinospora psifera, 334 
Retinospora sqiiarrosa, 334 
Rhamnus catharticus, 322 
Rhamnus frangula, 322 
Rhododendrons, best hardy sorts, 

309; best soil for, 312 
Robinson, William, need of sound 

views on landscape gardening, 

23; use of rocks, 174 
Rock plants, proper place for, 92 
Rosa rugosa, 309 
Rose, scarlet rambler, 314 
Rose, setigera or prairie rose, 314 
Roses, climbing, 173; Wichuriana 

hybrids, 308 ; prairie, 309, hybrid 

tea or ever blooming, 309 
Rousseau, J. J., 17, 245, 246 
Royce, Josiah, 299 
Rubus odoratus, 322 

Sargent, Prof. C. S., artificial 

lake, 158 
Saxifrage, 173 
Scale, San ]os6, 308 
vSchopenhauer, iv 
Shairp, John Campbell, effects 

of nature on the spirit, 273 
Sheep for lawns, 131 



1In&ei 



347 



Shenstone, essay on landscape 
gardening, 14; criticism of, 15 

Sidewalk, treatment of, 100 

Smith, Sydney, 69 

Smollett, Villa Pinciani, 247 

Snyder, Prof. Harry, 126 

Sod gutters, 137 

Sophora japonica (Japanese pa- 
goda tree), 320 

Sorrel tree {Oxydendron arboreum 
or Andremeda arbored), 314 

Speranza, Gino C, 65 

Spinoza, 56 

Spiraa Anthony Waterer, 322 

SpircBa billardi, 322 

Spiraa bumaldi, 322 

SpircEa callosa, 322 

Spiraa douglasi, 322 

Spircea thunbergii, 322 

Staples, John, 62 

Stiles, William A., vi; concerning 
Andrew Jackson Downing, 264; 
importance of persistence of 
types in parks, 286; nurseries 
in parks, 296; pastoral scenery 
in parks, 297 

Stonecrop (Sedunt Sacre), 92, 172 

Straight drive in Central Park, 
New York City, 142 

Stuartia pentagynia, 323 

Styrax japonica, 323 

Symons, Arthur, Villa Mattei, 252 

Symphoricarpus vulgaris, 322 

Tacitus, description of Golden 

House, 6 
Tamarix africana, 323 
Tamarix gallica, 323 
Tamarix germanica, 323 
Tamarix indica, 323 
Taylor, Isaac, the picturesque, 234 
Thompson, Francis, lines on the 

laburnum, 315 
Thuya (arbor-vitae), American, 334 
Tintern Abbey, description of its 

site, 104 
Trosachs, 141 
Tsuga sieboldii, 334 
Turner, value of the study of 

nature, 32 

Vaux, Calvert, concerning lawn 



planting in its widest sense, i ; 
imitation of nature, 4; creator 
of Central Park, New York 
City, 26; flower beds in Central 
Park, New York City, 241-243 
Versailles, character of, 55 
Viburnum acerifolium, 324 
Viburyium cassanoides, 324 
Viburnum dentatum, 324 
Viburmmi lantana, 324 
Viburnum lentago, 324 
Viburnum macroccphalum, 324 
Viburnum optUus sterilis (snow- 
ball), 324 
Viburnum oxycoccus (opulus), 324 
Vibtirnum plicatum, 324 
Viburnum prunifolium, 324 
Viburnum sieboldi, 324 
Vines, different kinds of, 326 
Virginia creeper, its use by Prince 
Piickler, 97; base of wall, 173 

Walpole, Horace, Kent's landscape 

gardening, 12 
Warwick Castle, 115 
Water-lily {Nymphaapygmea) , 160 
Weigela, Eva Rathke, 321 
Weigela lavallee, 321 
West Point, New York, gates of 

the Highlands of the Hudson, 89 
Whately, Thomas, 175-178, 208- 

210, 213-216; perversion of art, 

33-35; water, 148-155; grading, 

186-197 
Willow, pussy {Salix caprea), 307 
Willow, red-stemmed, 306 
Willow, weeping, 306 
Willow, white, 306 
Willow, yellow-stemmed, 306 
Windham, Lord, 35 
Windsor Park, description and 

praise of, 58 
Wire fence, 92 
Wordsworth, William, landscape 

gardening a liberal art, 40; 

effects of nature on spirits, 273 

Yew {Taxus cuspidata), 333 
Yew {Taxus repatidens), 333 
Young, Arthur, estate of Ermen- 

ouville, 17; criticism of Petit 

Trianon, 18 



Landscape Gardening 

Notes and Suggestions on Lawns and Lawn- 
Planting, Laying Out and Arrangement of 
Country Places, Large and Small Parks, 
Cemetery Plots, and Railway Station 
Lawns; Deciduous and Ever- 
green Trees and Shrubs, The 
Hardy Border, Bedding 
Plants, Rockwork, etc. 

By 

Samuel Parsons, Jr. 

Ex-Superintendent of Parks, New York City 



Large 6°. With Nearly 200 Illustrations. $3.50 
Popular Edition, $2.00 

" We commend it highly to all landowners, as 
being certain, first, to incite an intelligent admira- 
tion of handsome (though not necessarily exten- 
sive or costly) grounds; and, second, to impart 
clear and precise information for the improve- 
ment of perhaps every kind of rural premises." 
— The Cultivator and Country Gentleman, 



New York G. P. Putnaill's SOHS London 



Modern Civic Art 

The Citv Made Beautiful 



By Charles Mulford Robinson 
Author of " Improvement of Towns and Cities," etc. 

Octavo. Third Revised Edition. With 30 Full- 
page Illustrations. 
Net $3.00 (By Mail, $3.25) 

<4I3rOBABLY no American has thought more on the subject of 
^ the beautifying of cities, or thought to better effect, than has 
Charies Mulford Robinson. His first book, 'The Improvement of 
Towns and Cities,' gave the greatest impetus to the now widespread 
movement for civic beauty that it has yet received in this country. 
His occasional articles since have contributed vastly to information, 
delight, and enthusiasm on the part of those who have learned that 
the places where men live are worthy of love and care." — Philadel- 
phia Ledger. 

"It is difficult to name any movement for the bettering of mu- 
nicipal conditions that is of greater importance, or shows more likeli- 
hood of success, than that of which Mr. Charles Mulford Robinson's 
new book, 'Modern Civic Art,' is the latest exponent. There is 
hardly a matter concerning the adornment of the city, the convenience 
and comfort of the people as a whole, that is not discussed. To give 
force to suggestions concrete examples are given, for, luckily, there 
is scarcely a possible improvement of our cities that cannot be seen 
in some one city. The book is a strong plea." — Chicago Tribune, 

"Civic art is one of the sanest and most sensible practical move- 
ments of this day, and is just now meeting with a consideration which 
signifies a great triumphant movement for the beauty and comfort of 
our municipalities. . . At a time when real beginnings are being 
made, and a desire is becoming general and emphatic to carry this 
city beautifying forward, the splendid book by Mr. Robinson comes 
as especially welcome and appropriate. It is a most complete and 
thorough work. We should almost say that every patriotic citizen 
should have this beautiful and helpful book in his library." — St, Paul 
Dispatch. 



G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
New York I/3ndon 



Field Book of American 
Trees and Shrubs 



By 

F. Schuyler Mathews 

Author of " Field Book of American Wild 

Flowers," " Field Book of Wild Birds 

and Their Music " 

16°. With Many Illustrations, Some in Color 

and Maps 

Cloth, $2.00. Full leather, $2.50 

Mr. Mathews's earlier books, dealing 
with American Wild Flowers and Wild 
Birds, are a sufficient guaranty for his 
volume on American Trees and Shrubs, 
The book is not only artistic in form 
but also possesses scientific accuracy and 
value. It covers the entire territory of 
the United States. An important feat- 
ure is a series of maps showing the 
habitat of the various species. 

Q. P. Putnam's Sons 

New York London 



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